Bloodline
by TassanaBurrfoot
Summary: Being down on the totem pole is not a place Lucius will ever be, not for long. Under the guise of looking for his long-lost sister, he asks Hermione Granger, heroine of the Second Wizarding War, for help. Will he be able to win her heart? Will he be able to keep his own heart in tact? *Sequel to April Showers. (Rated M for later chapters and some language.)
1. Prologue

_"You will never be anything ever again, Lucius," Narcissa had cruelly spat at him. "You're pathetic, weak, and a coward. If not for_ my _actions and those of our son, this family would be in even worse ruins than it already is."_

Those words echoed in his mind as Lucius sat at his breakfast table. Alone. He sipped at his morning coffee and picked up the _Daily_ _Prophet_. Splashed upon the front page was a huge article about the divorce with photos of himself and Narcissa. **DEATH EATER GETS WHAT WAS COMING TO HIM!**

With three exclamation points. How droll. He did not know how he had managed to hit rock bottom so hard. Well, actually, he did, he was just loathed to admit it. Following the Dark Lord had ended up hurting him and his reputation tremendously. Losing his wife was the final nail in the coffin it seemed. How in all of Hades would he ever manage to rise up again?

He opened the paper, hoping to find some news on the latest Quidditch matches, when his eyes fell to another article. It had been a repeat of the article he had read a few days before. **GOLDEN TRIO IN TATTERED REMAINS**.

From what he had read, Hermione Granger had finally ended her engagement with Ronald Weasley, though why, the _Prophet_ didn't say. Lucius knew why, of course. She was too intelligent for the pauper. The fact that it had lasted as long as it had boggled Lucius, and irritated him to no end.

Though, why should he care? She was just a little Mudblood. Sure she was beautiful, having bloomed perfectly into adulthood. She reminded him of a swan in that regard. As a child, while she had certain adorable qualities, he certainly wouldn't have called her "cute". Now, however…

Young, beautiful, intelligent… She was the stuff of late night masterbation sessions. And he had often indulged in just that, knowing he didn't have a chance of revisiting his marital bed anytime soon.

He paused for a moment as his eyes went over the article and fell onto a photo of Miss Granger. He knew she had been working on elvish welfare rights. _Elvish rights, bah_ , he thought. As if they needed "rights" or "protections". When he had seen the moniker for the bill she wanted passed, he became indignant. _The Free Dobby Project_? Elves didn't _want_ to be free.

Forgetting his plate of food, having eaten half of it, he sat back in his chair and studied her picture. Despite her muddy blood and radical ideals, he had to admit he was viciously attracted to her. He had been ever since he had caught a glimpse of her in the Battle of Hogwarts. He had refused to indulge in his fantasy, however, what with the Dark Lord bearing down on him and his fear for his son's life. Besides, the girl was young...

And vibrant and passionate. Even in the picture posted in the _Prophet_ , he could see her fire. Hermione Granger would go places. She had the Ministry's backing and was personal friends with the Minister himself. She was invited, constantly, to galas, events, banquets… Why, any bloke on her arm could reap the benefits of her stellar reputation. It didn't matter, much, to the Ministry that she was a Mudblood. Her reign was only just beginning.

He blinked. Any bloke would reap the benefits. Any bloke…

The young Mr. Weasley almost had, too. Lucius didn't know what had caused the two to end things, but he did know that the pauper wasn't what she needed. She needed someone with intelligence. Someone who knew the Ministry well and could be beneficial to her career. She needed someone who was handsome and wealthy, someone who wouldn't look horrible on her arm and could be a benefactor to her causes.

He glanced at the door and frowned. He might have been "reformed", but he still wanted his son to have a Pureblooded child. Draco could be the person, if she were Pureblood. However, she wasn't and he was currently engaged to young Astoria Greengrass, who was a Pureblood. And the Malfoy lineage needed a Pureblood to carry on the line.

He looked at the picture again. No. Draco wouldn't do, anyway. Miss Granger needed someone older, wiser. A smirk played on his lips at the thought.

 _Why not?_ He thought to himself. Indeed. _Why not?_

Sure he was pushing fifty, but he wasn't dead by any means. He was handsome, wealthy, intelligent, and knew the Ministry inside and out. What was more, he was cultured and could teach her things she'd never have dreamed of before. And she would look so delicious spread out before him on his sheets of emerald silk.

(II)(II)

Months had passed. Lucius had worked tirelessly. He began observing her, taking note to the places she often haunted. He learned that, while she wasn't keen on fashion, she did enjoy sitting outside on a bench in front of the bookshop, reading. Draco had told Lucius that, in school, the girl often had her nose in a book, so she did enjoy books immensely. So, he bought a small piece of land and created a sort of paradise, complete with pagodas, a babbling brook and a little bridge over the brook. He had even purchased a few little critters for the garden and had planted plenty of flowering plants.

Due to his sketchy reputation, he did not reveal his name when he opened the gardens to the Wizarding public. It fast became a favorite place for many young couples and families. There were benches and tables scattered throughout the gardens to allow for picnics and he had hired a crew to keep the gardens clean and well maintained.

At home, he had gathered his house elves into his study and, after several orders of "Quiet!" and "Silence!", he had managed to help them understand that, while he was freeing them, he was not getting rid of them. He paid them a Sickle each for each week of work and assured them that he was still their master. He also ordered them to start dressing properly.

He found himself visiting the gardens often, enjoying the breeze and the sounds of the brook and animals. It didn't take him much to notice that Miss Granger was a constant visitor as well. The first time he saw her, he smirked, silently praising himself for his little scheme. It didn't take long for the gardens to become one of her favourite hideouts.

He spied one April morning as she sat upon a marble bench and read her book. Glancing up at the skies, he noticed that it was a little cloudy, though the sun was shining. He let his eyes fall back to her. She wore a light pink blouse with a slightly swooping neckline and a pair of tight fitting jeans that displayed her posterior quite nicely.

Knowing she often ventured to the pagodas at some point, he decided to slip into the nearest one. Finding a bench, he sat upon it and conjured a magazine, which he perused rather aimlessly. That was when the rain started. He focused his eyes on an article, inwardly groaning that it was a Seeker magazine he had already read. He glanced up when she entered.

When he caught her eye, he returned her smile and nod, noticing she was reading a book of Shakespeare's sonnets, and turned back to the article. He needed to remain nonchalant. He silently counted to a hundred, keeping his eyes trained on the magazine and periodically flipping the page. Then, he folded up the magazine, picked up his cane, and began walking in the direction he had seen her go. Thankfully, the rain held up and it didn't take him long to find her.

He didn't look at her, though. He kept his gaze on the roses that had crawled up the wall of the pagoda. When he got close to her, he paused, feigning interest in a particular rose. With little thought, he decided to recite a line from one of the Sonnets, " _How heavy do I journey on the way, When what I seek, my weary travel's end, Doth teach that ease and that repose to say,_

' _Thus far the miles are measured from thy friend!'"_

"Beg pardon?"

Turning his attention to her, he used his cane to point at the book. "Is that not Shakespeare in your hands, Miss Granger?"

She seemed rather surprised, and asked, disbelievingly, "You've read Shakespeare's sonnets?"

This began a long conversation and before he knew it, he had returned to the manor and began preparing for supper. That he asked her out wasn't as surprising as the fact that she had agreed to it.

Now he stood before his mirror, his hair freshly washed, and made sure he looked perfect for this evening.

It would be an evening to remember...

* * *

 **Author's Note:** This is the start of the sequel to April Showers. If you have not read that story, please do so now. :) And if you did read it, read it again, please, because the events in the first chapter here will take place after April Showers. (Don't worry, April Showers is a one-shot and won't take long to read at all.)


	2. Chapter 1

Lucius hung his cloak up in the cloak room and made his way towards his study, tapping his cane on the polished floor and humming a random tune.

This was odd behavior for him, for Lucius Malfoy was not the type of person to hum. However, he was quite pleased with the outcome of the day. Ever since Narcissa left him and filed for a divorce, he had been trying to find a way to claw his way back up into the good graces of the Wizarding World. No. Scratch that. It hadn't started with the divorce, but rather with the downfall of the Dark Lord.

While the Dark Lord's death was unfortunate… Hm. He paused in his humming. He wasn't necessarily upset that the Dark Lord was dead. Indeed, after the fiasco that happened in the Ministry, Lucius was silently hoping the Boy Wonder would succeed and put an end to the despot. That didn't mean Lucius had renounced his old beliefs or anything. No. It just meant that he saw the folly in the Dark Lord's return. The rose-colored glasses he once wore in hopes of a Wizarding utopia were dashed when he realized the Dark Lord cared little about those who followed him.

Despite his personal beliefs, Lucius wasn't an idiot. The fortune he had did not just come from his forefathers, but from himself as well. He knew how to make alliances and what parts he should play to get what he wanted.

As he sat behind his desk, he picked up the evening edition of the _Daily Prophet_ and read the headline. Theodore Nott had married none other than the quirky Luna Lovegood. Lucius stood up and went to his wet bar to pour himself a couple fingers of brandy.

He had to admit that he did enjoy the day. He had gone to the Magical Gardens to spy, as he always did, on the various people there and, perhaps, learn things about them that would help him later on. He had spotted Miss Granger amid the rose bushes and an idea had formed in his mind.

Unfortunately, or rather fortunately, he thought, Draco was already engaged to the lovely Astoria Greengrass. While Lucius wasn't particularly fond of the girl, he was grateful that she was a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

However, Lucius was still single. Granted, it was through a divorce, which was a huge snub for him, but… Lucius had kept an eye on the young Gryffindor Mudblood. He read any and all new articles about her and spied on her in the gardens. He knew the girl was no longer with the red-haired pauper, though, to his utter disbelief, he did take note that she was still friendly with the boy.

In an effort to learn more about the girl, Lucius had scoured her Hogwarts records and even learned where she lived. Of course, he didn't see any of this as stalking, for he wasn't the type to watch her house. In fact, tonight was the first time he had ever been there.

He knew her reputation, had even donated to a few of her causes. In an effort to get into her good graces, he had even freed his house-elves, and offered them paid employment. The idea annoyed the hell out of him, sure, but he knew the Mudblood was against slavery and had fought for elfish rights for years now.

Lucius could easily bed a Pureblood witch. In fact, he desperately wanted to. Unfortunately, there wasn't really a Pureblood he liked who wasn't already married. Besides, the Wizarding world was changing, if young Mr. Nott's engagement was anything to go by. Being with a Mudblood would only help Lucius, rather than hurt him.

Of course, that didn't really make him feel less dirty, which is why he finished his brandy and sat back. Closing his eyes, he thought back over the day.

It was completely by chance that an April shower had occurred and that Miss Granger had run into the pagoda. He found himself glancing at her drenched shirt. While he doubted she noticed, he couldn't help but stare at her perky nipples that had shown themselves so clearly through her pale, pink blouse. He had found himself silently wondering just how well one of her breasts would fit into his hand. He could tell she wasn't very large.

Their conversation had been enchanting, with them quoting Shakespeare to one another. The invitation to dine with him had come as a shock to the both of them. He honestly had not meant to do that, however, he couldn't deny that it was quite pleasant. It had prompted him to give her a tender kiss at the end of the evening.

He licked his lips in thought and debated if he should brush his teeth or not. No. If he was to have any sort of relations with the girl, he would have to get used to soiling himself in such fashion. In all honesty, she wasn't really that bad. She had certainly smelled and tasted good. Well, the little bit he was able to taste. No doubt the rest of her tasted divine as well.

He felt his lower body harden at the thought of the girl and he frowned. Lucius had never been the type to allow himself to pine over a bird to the point of discomfort. He wasn't a schoolboy.

He looked up at the door right as he heard someone knock on it. Knowing that Draco was the only other person in the Manor, Lucius invited him in without a thought as he stood to refill his glass.

"Care for a finger?" Lucius asked as he spared Draco a glance.

Gone was the boyish swagger Draco had once had. While he still carried himself with pride, he had lost a bit of his ego and arrogance. Lucius blamed himself for that. He had never wanted Draco to live through the horrors he had, and it pained the aristocrat that he did.

"That's fine," Draco muttered as he sat in one of the chairs in front of his father's desk. "I merely wished to bring you the quarter reports," he added. "Sales have been down, but they are slowly building back up."

Lucius nodded as he handed his son a glass of brandy. "That doesn't surprise me," he said as he returned to his seat. "Rebuilding takes time, and we don't really have the best reputation."

"That's true," Draco agreed. He looked at his father with concern. "Though, I think that has more to do with you than me. Are you sure you don't want me to take over yet? With Astoria -."

Lucius shook his head. "That won't be necessary," he assured his son. He gazed at the younger Malfoy for a moment. The boy had heart and ambition, traits any Malfoy should be proud of. However, he lacked any interest in self-sacrifice. Lucius lifted an eyebrow as he took a sip from his brandy.

"It's a shame you are unavailable," he said. He frowned into his glass. "Then again, perhaps that is best."

Draco stared at his father in confusion, then rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me you found another bird you think I should hook up with? I'm twenty-four years old, Father. Astoria makes me happy and I'm not going to leave her just for one of your schemes."

"I wouldn't ask it of you," Lucius replied. Seeing the dubious expression on Draco's face, he gave a little shrug. "Besides, you've outgrown your infatuation with Miss Granger, from what I remember."

"Granger?" Draco repeated with a frown. "She's a Muggleborn, Father, in case you've forgotten."

"I haven't," Lucius said as he took another sip. He licked his lips, savoring the fruity flavor of the brandy. "And you have the family name to think about."

Draco scoffed. "As if I care about the family name," he groused.

Lucius shot him a warning look, though Draco did not recoil from it. The days where Draco had feared his father were long gone. "In any case, she is currently available, and I would hate to see her fall into the clutches of someone unworthy of her."

"What does that have to do with us?" Draco asked. "Who cares what happens to Granger?"

Lucius glanced at his son. "I intend to woo her," he admitted to Draco's surprise.

"But… You're so _old_ ," Draco said, drawing out the end of the sentence. Lucius's eyes narrowed at the proclamation. "Even if she wasn't a Muggleborn, what could she possibly see in a wizard old enough to be her father? Hell, you're _MY_ father! Have you gone loopy?"

"Watch it," Lucius warned.

"I am watching it," Draco said. "I'm watching and I don't believe it. What the hell are you thinking?"

"Sales are down by eight percent," Lucius commented as he opened the scroll his son had given him. Gray eyes met gray eyes as father looked at son. "We used to be at the top of the Wizarding World. I was the one who dragged us down, and I intend to bring us back up. Quickest way to do that is to show that we have truly renounced the old ways and wish to start anew. My relationship with Miss Granger would ensure -."

"You're going to renounce the old ways?" Draco questioned in disbelief. "What are you going to do? Marry the bint?"

"Language," Lucius snapped.

Flabbergasted, Draco leaned back in his chair. "Sweet Mother of God," he breathed as he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "She's my age, Father. She could be your daughter! And you're talking about marriage!"

"I never said anything about marriage," Lucius corrected. "Though, now that I think of it, that might not be such a bad idea."

Draco dropped his hand and stared at his father, dumbfounded. "'Not such a bad idea'? You're bloody mental, is what you are!" He pointed an accusing finger at his father. "What happened to all that talk about keeping it 'pure'? ' _Sanctimonia Vincet Semper'_! You would have strung me by my bollocks if I even brought up the idea of marrying Granger. In fact, what did you say my first year at Hogwarts? 'Don't muddy the waters, Draco.' Don't muddy the waters my left butt cheek!"

"Ah, so you _do_ still fancy her," Lucius observed.

Draco sneered. "No. I don't," he argued.

The patriarch shrugged. "Then, she is free," he said.

Draco shook his head. "You can't marry her, Father," he stated.

"And why not?" Lucius asked, curious. "Granted, that wasn't my intention to begin with, but since you brought it up, I'm curious as to why you're against it. And don't say because of my age."

"But your age has everything to do with it!" Draco snapped. "You are twenty-six years older than her!"

"Twenty-five," Lucius corrected.

"As if _that_ makes a difference," the younger Malfoy grumbled. "There's still the fact that I almost graduated with her, and she's a Muggleborn."

"She is also on a path to become the Minister for Magic," Lucius added. "Imagine, son, the sort of gains we could receive if she were to become my wife."

Draco glared at his father. "I highly doubt she will be the Minister for Magic. I think Shacklebolt has denounced the idea that he'll ever die."

Lucius gave a small, slow smirk. "Well, you never know," he said.

"And she's still my age!" Draco shouted.

Lucius placed his empty glass on his desk and steeped his fingers, staring at his son. "Tell me, Draco. Are you going to Floo Astoria tonight and break off your engagement? Do you intend to turn your charm towards Miss Granger and sweep her off her feet?"

Draco said nothing, but the look in his eyes told Lucius more than enough. The patriarch lifted an eyebrow. "Tomorrow morning, I will send Mr. and Mrs. Granger an owl, requesting a desire to meet with them. My intention is to curry their favor and ask for their permission to court the lovely Hermione Granger. Once I receive their blessing, and I will receive it, I will begin my courtship of the beautiful lass. If it comes to it, yes, I will marry her and she will become your stepmother."

Draco gave his father a calculated look. "If I were to break it off with Astoria and pursue Granger myself?" he questioned cautiously.

Lucius's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Try it," his voice whispered in a deadly calm. "I dare you."

(II)(II)

Lucius leaned on his cane and watched as the young witch arranged files in a cabinet. His eyes roved over her figure, taking in the subtle curve of her hips. The short skirt she wore left little to the imagination and he briefly fantasized having those legs around his waist. Were they as smooth as they looked? The blouse she wore hung loose on her shoulders. It was modest, yet very beautiful.

He lifted a gloved hand to the door and knocked lightly on it, startling the girl into dropping her files slightly. She turned to him with wide eyes. "Jesus!" she breathed.

He gave her a small smile. "Doubtful," he replied, causing her to chuckle nervously.

"Come in. How can I help you today, Lucius?" she asked as she turned her attention back to the files.

He glanced about the small office. For such small space, it was tidy and practical, furnished with light maple colored furniture. He stepped into the room and wondered how she would react if he shut the door behind him and ravished her on her desk. Lust flashed across his eyes, though it had been lost on the witch as she had her back turned to him. _All in good time, Lucius_ , he reminded himself. He said to her, "I was curious to know if you would bestow upon me your grace and accompany me to lunch. Unless you've already eaten?"

She glanced at him and grinned. "Not tired of me yet?" she inquired as she slipped another file into the cabinet.

He raised an eyebrow as he watched her. When she looked at him, he gave her a small smirk. "If I were, I wouldn't be here," he pointed out. "You've intrigued me, Miss Granger, and I find myself genuinely entranced."

"Hermione," she corrected, reminding him of their discussion a few nights before. "I just have a few more files to put away. If you'd like, you are welcomed to sit while you wait. I -."

Lucius didn't know what had possessed him, but he felt the urge to touch her. In two short strides he had managed to move up against her. He gently turned her to face him and touched her jawline, effectively cutting her off. "How odd is it that we've only been apart for three days and yet I find myself longing to taste these lips again," he said softly, seductively.

Her eyes looked up into his. His eyes fell to her mouth and he unconsciously licked his lips. Her mouth opened slightly in surprise and, closing his eyes, he pressed his mouth against hers. His tongue darted out a little to run over her bottom lip. She opened her mouth more and he deepened the kiss. Placing his hands over hers, he took the documents from her hands and moved them atop the filing cabinet before drawing her arms to wrap around his neck. She gasped as he pulled her flush against him. As he rested his hands on her lower back, she moaned softly against his lips.

Breaking the kiss, he looked into her eyes. "Just as I remembered," he whispered as he kissed her again.

"I just..." she breathed. "Let me put these files away and then I'm all yours."

All his? He broke the kiss, ending it with a kiss to her forehead as he dropped his hands. "Then, by all means," he offered as he stepped a respectful distance away from her. "Be my guest."

She blushed prettily as she turned to pick the documents back up. As she worked, he allowed his eyes to roam over her back side. Oh, yes. She would be a pleasant new bride for him.

He honestly hadn't thought of making her his bride until his son brought it up. A mistress, perhaps, but with her dirty blood, he hadn't thought of her as bride material. However, the conversation with his son had changed his mind. Despite his protests to the contrary, Lucius knew Draco would pursue the witch if he allowed it. Lucius also knew his threats did not work on the boy anymore. Not like they used to. If Lucius wasn't careful, Draco would pluck the delicate flower from his grasp, which was odd considering the engagement to Astoria was still on going.

She had nice child-bearing hips, too. Though Lucius did not fantasize about more children at his age, he briefly wondered if she had. Would he be willing to accept her request were she to make it? He wasn't fond of having half-blood children, but he imagined that any child born from her would be just as talented and gifted as she. He imagined she would look quite beautiful if she were ripe with his child.

But he was getting ahead of himself. "I'm not sure you're aware, darling," Lucius said, "but I have a meeting with your parents tomorrow evening."

She glanced back at him and frowned. "Yeah. My dad called me and asked me about that. He was having difficulty remembering who you were, but… I don't think he'll have much trouble once he sees you," she commented.

Lucius frowned. "How would he remember me?" he inquired as he thought it over. He had never met any Muggles, and certainly not her… Oh. Wait. He had. "Flourish & Blotts," he recalled.

Hermione nodded. "You and Arthur Weasley got into a fist fight," she reminded him.

"And how is old Weasley?" he asked, holding back his sneer, as he leaned on his cane.

"As if you care," she said with a roll of her eyes. "But, because you asked, he and Molly just welcomed their fourth grandchild, so, he's doing well."

Four? "Given that they have so many children themselves, I suppose that's a rather modest number," he conceded.

Hermione glanced at him with a frown. "Is there a problem with that?" she asked.

"Not at all," Lucius replied honestly. "It truly is none of my concern, and given that many of their children have become stand up citizens, I can't really complain."

She grinned as she slipped the last document into the cabinet and looked at him. "Are you actually complimenting the Weasleys?" she asked.

Lucius moved towards her, meeting her halfway and placing a hand on her waist. His stormy eyes glanced down at her, dropping to her lips before meeting her own, honey-colored eyes. "Do you really wish to discuss the Weasleys at this moment?" he questioned.

She shook her head, her brown curls bouncing against her shoulders. "No. We should get lunch. I'm famished," she replied.

As they stepped out onto the pavement in Diagon Alley, Hermione paused a moment and closed her eyes, breathing in the fresh air. Lucius watched her curiously. When she glanced back at him with a smile, he couldn't help but return it with a small one of his own.

"It's so nice to step outside after being in a dusty old office all day, isn't it?" she asked him, though somehow he doubted she wished him to reply. "Do you mind if I choose a place this time? Only, there's this pastry shop up the street I have been dying to try."

He quirked a brow as he held out his elbow for her. "Well, I certainly wouldn't want your death," he said, drawing a small giggle from her as she slipped her hand into his elbow. "Lead the way, darling."

As they trekked along the cobblestone, the young witch regaled Lucius with her day, telling him about this house-elf abuse case she was working on. He had very little interest in the case and was quick to tune her out, listening only at key moments and giving small comments to let her know he was paying attention.

He was a little hesitant about where they were going. Though he knew the place she spoke of, he hadn't deigned to enter it. As they walked up to the building, he opened the door for her and allowed her to enter first. He glanced about the restaurant and couldn't help but notice how quaint it was. He frowned when he noticed there was no host to seat them. Instead, Hermione tugged at his arm to lead him to a service counter.

"This is where we place our order. Then, we take a number and have a seat," she informed him.

"Where's the menu?" he asked. Hermione drew his attention to a board above the counter and he fought the urge to make a snide comment.

"Oh, that salad looks good," she said as she leaned against him. "Feta and beetroot."

He glanced over the menu before his eyes settled on the salad she mentioned. He gave a single nod in understanding. "Order whatever you wish, darling," he urged her.

"What are you going to eat?" she asked.

He hadn't a clue. Most of the things listed on the menu he had never even heard of before. As they reached the counter, where the cashier stood, Hermione told the lady what she had wanted, then glanced up at Lucius.

Lucius looked down and saw the witch behind the counter. The girl gave him a small smile, though he caught the quiver in her bottom lip. "I will also have the feta and beetroot salad," he told the lady, "along with a tuna and cucumber sandwich."

The girl gave him a larger smile. "Yes, sir," she said as she rang up the order. "And to drink?"

Lucius stared at the girl. She was far too perky for his taste, but he held back. "Tea," he said simply.

"Yes, sir," she repeated as she added the request. She handed Hermione a small triangular plastic plaque with the number 47 on it. "Your total is 3 Galleons, 7 Sickles, and 1 Knut."

Lucius frowned slightly as he pulled out 4 Galleons from his pocket and placed them on the counter. The witch handed him his change and Hermione led him to a table near the window. Once they were seated, a waiter approached their table with their drinks and placed them on the table.

"Was this alright?" Hermione asked, drawing Lucius's attention.

He gave her a reassuring smile as he looked about the room. "It isn't exactly the place I would have chosen," he admitted, "but it seems nice enough. It's clean, to say the least."

She seemed pleased by his answer and took a dainty sip of her own tea. "I just love these little diners," she told him. "There's another place, in Muggle London, called Gregg's and sometimes, when the stress of the Wizarding world gets to me, I'll go there just to get away for a moment. It's a great place to go if you wish to have a quiet place to read."

"As opposed to the Magical Gardens, that is," he said, looking at her.

The sunlight streamed through the window, giving her hair this sort of shiny halo around it. Her smile filled him with joy as she chuckled and took a sip of her drink. "Oh, the gardens are my favorite place, to be sure. Tell me, Lucius, do you have a place where you like to go to get away from it all?"

"My villa in Italy," he replied without much thought.

She stared at him, momentarily gobsmacked. "You have a villa in Italy?"

"I used to have one in Greece as well," he told her. "However, it was handed over to Narcissa with the divorce. Perhaps I'll take you to Italy one day. We could dine in Venice, maybe visit the beaches in Tuscany."

She giggled and he paused, frowning. She waved her hand. "Sorry, but did you say 'beaches'?" she asked, her eyes alight with amusement.

He said nothing as the waitress set their food down. After thanking her and watching her leave, he glanced back at Hermione as she speared her salad with a fork. "Is there something wrong with my suggestion?" he questioned as he placed a napkin on his lap.

She swallowed the food she was chewing, giving a moan of approval that went straight to his groin. He still could not understand his attraction to the girl and frowned at his own reaction to her. She looked at him, the smile on her face brightening at his look of confusion. "I have a hard time imagining you in any sort of swimwear," she said, honestly. She blushed. "Sorry."

He took a sip from his drink and patted his lips with his napkin. "Nothing to be sorry about, my dear," he assured her. "In truth, it has been years since I have visited the property. In fact, I do believe the last time I was there, Draco was but a young lad."

She grinned. "You said that you like to go to the villa to get away from it all," she reminded him.

"I did," he agreed. "And I do. However, that doesn't mean that I have a chance to go there often. Besides, it's more entertaining if I have someone attending with me." He lifted a single, suggestive brow at this and she giggled.

"You'll have to work harder than that, Mr. Malfoy," Hermione said as she wiped her mouth and leaned back in her chair. "Owning villas and manors mean little when you're filthy rich, even if they are impressive. I'm not a witch to be bought with pretty things."

"Indeed," Lucius said, his lip quirking in amusement. "If you were, I wouldn't waste my time, I assure you."

Hermione glanced down at their empty plates and looked up at the clock. She sighed. "I really should get back to work now."

"Tired of me already?" he asked, purposely using her line from earlier.

She gave him a dazzling smile as she stood. "Not at all," she told him. "I really wish we could stay longer."

As they stood, he offered her his hand. "Do you have plans this coming weekend?" he asked.

When she accepted his hand, he lifted her hand up to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of it. Then, he tucked her hand into his elbow and lead her out of the shop. "Ginny was wanting to go shopping," she said, "but that's on Saturday and, if I can find an excuse to bail out early, I'll do it."

He gave her a small smile. "Not much into shopping, are you?" he questioned. "Perhaps you'll give me the honor of your presence, then? I've been thinking about what you've said about my sister. If you could..."

"Oh, right!" she interrupted as she turned to him. "I almost forgot about that! Did you want to start this weekend, then?"

As much as Lucius hated being interrupted, he managed to maintain his poise and did not show his annoyance. "I could treat you to supper after," he offered.

She tapped her bottom lip. "Would we have time? I mean, if Ginny wants to go shopping in the morning, then I could, possibly, skive off after noon..." She frowned and glanced up at him. "You like to eat around 7, correct? That would give us roughly five to six hours to research. Do you think we'll be able to find anything within that time?"

"I don't see why not," he replied.

"But then, you also like dressing up. If we go somewhere fancy, I would need time to shower and dress, which usually takes me about one or two hours, if I'm lucky. So… that would only give us about four to five hours, which..."

"If it would ease your mind, darling," Lucius suggested, wanting more than anything to shut her up, "I do have a few spare rooms. To save time, you could bring a change of clothes with you and simply clean up at the Manor before we go to supper."

She paused, causing him to stop mid gait. "Wouldn't that be a bit presumptuous?" she asked, looking at him. "I mean..."

He turned to her, effectively pulling her closer to his body. "I don't think so," he purred, huskily. "Unless, of course, you wish it, darling." He ran the backs of his fingers lightly across her cheek and cupped her jaw. He dipped his head so that his lips brushed over hers. He felt her intake of breath and he allowed his lips to run along her cheek to her ear. "Do you wish it?" he whispered, his hot breath teasing her ear and hair.

She let out a shuddering gasp and he could feel her practically quaking in his arms. He longed to reach between her legs just to check if she was wet. He nearly asked her, but stopped himself. No point in pushing his luck so early in the game.

Urging his libido down, he straightened up and coaxed her into walking again. "You have no need to fear anything scandalous occurring, my dear," he assured her. "I may be Slytherin, but I am also a gentleman. Generations of refined breeding and years of tutelage leave me with very little room or need to step out of line."

"Discounting those years of service to Voldemort," she mumbled to herself quietly. Her eyes widened and she gasped the moment the words had left her mouth. She glanced at him, no doubt hoping he hadn't heard her.

He heard her, though, and came to a halt outside the Ministry. He stared at her for a moment. On the inside, he was reeling from the insult and wanted nothing more than to backhand her for her impertinence. In fact, he was imagining several different tortures he would enjoy performing on her. However, outwardly, he seemed simply annoyed.

She was effectively cowed by his look of displeasure. "Sorry," she said sheepishly as she blushed a little. "I didn't..."

He raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps this venture is a mistake?" he asked.

Her eyes widened as she looked up at him. "No. No, it's not," she quickly assured him. "I don't know where that came from. I just -."

"You don't?" he said. "Miss Granger, I am not exactly proud of that part of my past. Because of it, my family suffered greatly. I really would not like to relive it, as I'm sure you don't either. You were the one to offer your help in my search for my missing sister, if I recall correctly."

"I am, and I still do want to help you," she told him. "I didn't mean to -."

"Come to the Manor around noon on Saturday, then. If you wish to dine out with me, make sure you bring suitable attire to change into. The front gates will be open for you," he said to her. Lifting her hand up to his lips, he kissed the back of it. "Shall I see you then?"

Her eyes followed the movement of her hand. "Yes, of course," she told him.

He gave her a small smile. "Then I bid you adieu for now."

As he turned, he heard her intake of breath. "Wait," she whispered.

He closed his eyes for a moment before glancing back at her over his shoulder. "Yes?"

"Had I been in love, I could not have been more wretchedly blind. But vanity, not love, has been my folly," she said.

Frowning, he turned back to her. She was quoting Jane Austen. From the hopeful look in her eyes, the way she shifted from one foot to the other, she, no doubt, had hoped for him to say something in return. He raised an eyebrow. "Nothing is more deceitful than the appearance of humility. It is often only carelessness of opinion, and sometimes an indirect boast," he quoted to her.

"I did not mean to insult you," she insisted, taking a step towards him.

"We both have places we need to be," he told her. "If you are serious about helping me on my quest, come to the Manor on Saturday. It'll be your choice whether we dine or not."

She nodded slightly and gave him a small smile as she watched him depart.

* * *

Author's Note: Many thanks to my lovely betas, cowgalnina and Elle Morgan-Black. You ladies rock! Also, lots of thanks to those who've reviewed, favorited, and followed this story. There's so much more to come and I really hope you enjoyed this chapter as well.

The quotes at the end are from Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. (Truly an amazing novel in my humble opinion.)


	3. Chapter 2

Hermione quickly closed her office door and locked it. Checking her watch, she moaned. Maybe if she hurried, there would still be a decent salad. It was Thursday, two more days until she went to the Manor, and, while she was still nervous about it, she was a bit excited. Course, she needed to make sure the case of another abused house-elf was filed, as well as a dozen other cases she had been working on.

As she walked towards the Ministry's cafeteria, she flipped through the manila folder she had in her arms. She shook her head. The whole case was horrible and she felt sorry for the little creature who had been put through those travesties. When she turned the corner, she ran smack into a wall and fell backwards, causing the contents of the folder to spill all over the tile flooring.

"Hey!" she shouted in surprise as the wall… grunted.

She glanced up to see Draco Malfoy staring down at her, surprise written over his face. He frowned as she stared up at him. "When I told my friend I was hoping to run into you today, I didn't mean literally, Granger," he said in amusement as he flicked his wand and gathered her papers.

She glowered as she tucked her legs under her and knelt on the ground. He held out a hand to help her up. Brushing off her skirt, Hermione straightened her robes. "Thank you," she replied as he handed her the folder. Then she looked at him. "And why were you hoping to run into me?"

He smirked. "Well, I wanted to talk to you about something I had heard yesterday. I mean, it can't possibly be true, and I wanted it confirmed that it wasn't," he said, mysteriously.

"So, you came here today? Why didn't you come yesterday?"

"I did," he told her as his eyes narrowed suggestively. Her eyes widened as he gave her a rather scorching look. He couldn't be serious! "Only, you weren't here, which I suppose confirms it, does it not?"

"Confirms what exactly?" she asked, not daring to hold her breath.

He tilted his head slightly. "Are you and my father courting?" he asked bluntly.

"I -," she began, then stopped. She shook her head and continued walking. "Why are you asking me this? Shouldn't you be asking your father?"

"I did," he answered as he followed her into the cafeteria. Oh, she hoped she would make it in time. "Where do you think I heard it from? So, it's true, then?"

She sighed. "I don't know, Malfoy," she replied. "We went on a date. That was all. Then, yesterday, I found out he was meeting with my parents in an attempt to ask for their permission like we live in the 1950s."

"Granger, he was born in the 1950s," he told her. "Shouldn't you be courting someone who's closer to our age?"

She glanced at him. "You act as though I haven't," she said as she stopped to look at him. "I don't see how it's any of your business anyway."

He shrugged. "Well, technically, it is," he replied, "he is my father. If I had known you were interested, I would've asked you out myself. In fact, I would like to ask you to dinner with me."

Her eyes widened as he gave her another suggestive look. Oh, God! No! This cannot be happening to her! "But you're engaged!" she protested. "You're getting married!"

He shrugged again. "Things can change, can't they?" he drawled. "Few months, or so, from now, it could be you walking down the aisle to me, right?"

She shook her head. "No," she argued. She pointed at him. "I am not going to be one of those women who steals husbands from others."

He chuckled. "You can't steal me if I'm not married, Granger," he reasoned. "It's just one dinner, what harm can it do? Besides, who knows? Maybe you and I..." he let the sentence fade as he gave her a wink and smirk.

Hermione rolled her eyes and walked away from him. "I have no idea why you're suddenly interested in me, but I think it inappropriate when you have a fiancée and are soon to be wed," she hissed as she opened the cafeteria door.

"I'm not 'suddenly interested'," he argued. "I've been interested. I just didn't think you were available, nor did I think -"

"I'm not 'available'," she spat, glaring at him. "Remember?" She looked at him and folded her arms. "I've already been on a date with your father and I have another this weekend. With him."

"So, what? You're just going to court a guy who's old enough to be your father?" he asked as she grabbed a salad bowl and began fixing her salad.

She sighed as she saw the state of the lettuce. She had waited too long. Ah well. She scooped a healthy helping of the wilted lettuce and began adding some tomatoes, cucumbers, and other, mostly fresh, vegetables. "He's not my father," she said as she grabbed the Italian dressing.

"No, he's my father," Draco pointed out. "But that's not my point, Granger."

"Then what is?" Hermione asked as she stared at him.

He lifted his hands in a silent plea. "Just let me take you to dinner. Saturday night. If you don't -"

"Sorry, can't," she interrupted as she pushed past him to the register.

"Why not?" he asked with a frown, following her.

Hermione handed the cashier a few Sickles to pay for her meal and walked over to a free table to sit down. "I already have plans for Saturday."

"Can't you reschedule?" he pressed.

She stared at him with wide eyes as she scoffed in disbelief. "You're joking, right?" she asked in disbelief. "Why in Hell would I reschedule my life to fit around yours?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but then shut it. He ran a hand through his hair. "You're right," he agreed. He watched as she rolled her eyes and turned her attention to her salad. "What about Sunday?" he asked, but then answered for himself, "No, you never go out on Sundays because you have work Monday morning. Then… Friday, perhaps? Tomorrow?"

She looked up at him as she chewed her food. Once she swallowed, she licked her lips. "How do you know what I do on Sundays?" she mused. Before he could answer, she shook her head." You know what? Never mind. I don't think you understand, so perhaps I should explain it better," she said. "You are getting married next month. I know this because it's all over the bloody _Prophet_. Saturday, I'm helping your father with some things at the Manor and then we are going out to eat. We, of course, meaning your father and me. Not that any of that matters because you're _engaged_!"

"And if I wasn't?" he asked as he sat back in his seat.

"Un- _fucking_ -believable!" she hissed as she threw her hands in the air and looked away from him. She stared at her plate of half eaten salad and sighed. Suddenly, she wasn't hungry anymore. She stood up and grabbed her plate. As Draco moved to stand as well, she glared at him fiercely and slammed the plate down. "Fourteen years! You've had fourteen years to ask me out. Fourteen years to treat me like a normal human being. Fourteen years to sweep me off my feet. And you wait until _Daddy_ does it before you make a move? Why? Because _Daddy_ has shown an interest in me? Does _Daddy_ approve of you being here right now? Does he even know?" He frowned and she snorted. "Of course he doesn't," she said as she picked her plate back up and moved to the bin to empty it. She tossed the used plate into another bin that was labeled for dirty dishes.

"Granger, wait," he said as he followed her out of the cafeteria.

She was walking hastily towards her office when he reached out to grab her hand. "Hermione," he said, pleadingly.

She stopped, looked down at the hand holding hers, then back up to his eyes, and stared at him. "What?"

He stood before her, his eyes searching hers. "I didn't know," he admitted. "Yes, I had fourteen years. You know our history. I didn't know it would have been allowed, and in fact, for the first seven, it wasn't. So many things, bad things, could have happened if I had admitted I had any sort of feelings for you. I did fancy you – I _do_ fancy you. Ever since I saw you on the train that first time – Granger, please. Give me a chance. Let me take you out to dinner."

"You called me 'Hermione'," she said, half in awe.

He tilted his head and gave a small smirk. "That's your name, isn't it?"

She sighed. "That doesn't change the fact that you're now engaged," she said. She pulled her hand out of his grasp. "Nor does it change the fact that I am currently dating your father. It wouldn't be fair to either of them."

He stood up a little straighter. "So..." his eyes narrowed in thought. "If I wasn't engaged and if you weren't 'dating' my father, then..." He looked at her, his eyes seeking the confirmation he apparently needed.

"He also apologized to me," she pointed out. "And," she paused as she remembered the pagoda and gardens. "There was a connection there," she said finally. She smiled absently as she thought of their little "recital battle". She glanced at Draco and her smile wavered. "Perhaps at one point," she admitted and his eyes gleamed hopefully, "but I'm dating Lucius now. I won't break his heart by betraying him. I can't."

Draco scoffed. "You honestly think you'll break his heart? Come off it, Granger, you _just_ started courting him!"

"And you shouldn't think about breaking Astoria's heart," she said, her brow furrowing in anger. "What do you think this will do to her if she were to find out that you're flirting with a Mudblood?"

"You shouldn't call yourself that," he stated, his face twisting to one of mild disgust.

She pulled up her left sleeve to show him the ugly scar that was still there. "Why? It's what I am," she said. "I'm not ashamed."

He blanched at the sight of the scar. "Hermione, I'm… I'm so sorry," he muttered, bowing his head.

It was so strange to hear him use her given name. He did look genuine, though, so she had to give him credit for that much. She touched his shoulder and he looked up at her. "It's ok," she assured him. "Just… I don't know what's going to happen between your father and me, but I am willing to give him a chance. Besides, Astoria is beautiful and she's kind."

"You've met her?" he asked curiously.

She smiled brightly. "She's helped me on a few cases," she admitted.

"Which is another reason you won't have dinner with me?" he prodded.

She lifted her brow at that. "You're determined, aren't you?"

He grinned as he leaned closer to her. "I'm Slytherin."

She snorted as she pushed him away. "You're incorrigible," she teased, laughing.

He shrugged as he backed away. "Can't blame a man for trying, right?" he said. "When you get tired of my old man, though, let me know."

She rolled her eyes as he gave her a wink and turned away. As she closed her office door behind her, she stared, wide-eyed at her desk. What the Hell just happened? Draco Malfoy had flirted with her, and more, he wanted to date her. The week was just getting weirder and weirder.

(II)(II)

Lucius steeled his resolve and prepared for the arduous task before him. He sneered at the tiny garden as he walked up the drive to the house. It was tidy enough, sure, but nowhere near the extravagance to which he was accustomed. He stood upon the last step closest to the door and used the snake head of his walking stick to knock on the door. Even with gloves on, he had no desire to actually touch the thing.

He took a step back and waited, albeit a bit impatiently. He hated waiting, though, from the sounds of it, he didn't have to wait long. He kept the emotionless expression on his face, though inside he was disgusted, as he heard the door unlock and watched it open.

A petite woman with curly brown hair and hazel green eyes stood before him. "Hello," she greeted. "Are you Lucius Malfoy?" She wore simple light blue jeans and a pink blouse that was… well, Lucius didn't think it was very modest, but it did aptly cover the most important bits.

He gave her a little smile and nodded his head. "And you must be Mrs. Granger, I presume?"

"Elizabeth Granger," she elaborated. "I do think I remember you from once before."

He lifted a brow. "Yes, and I you," he said. "Though, unfortunately, we were never properly introduced."

"No, we weren't, though I do think that had been rather intentional, yes?" she commented.

Lucius gave her an apologetic smile. It was true. Their lack of an introduction to one another had been quite intentional on his part. In fact, were it not for his current desire to wed Miss Granger, he wouldn't partake in the present introduction either. "Time changes all things," he finally said, "and I am no longer the man I once was." He lifted his caneless hand to produce a bouquet of bluebonnets and pink roses.

She raised an eyebrow. "We'll see about that," she said as she accepted the flowers and opened the door wider. "Please, do come in. Tony should be down in a minute."

It took him a moment to realize just who she was talking about. He said nothing, just gave her a short smile in response.

"So, Lucius, would you care for a drink?" she asked as she led him into a small sitting room. At least, that's what he thought it was.

He glanced about the room, noting the various shelves, books, and pictures. Like the garden in the front, the room was very well kept, if minuscule, and for some reason, he could smell jasmine in the air. His eyes sought out the origin of the scent. There was a beige couch with a matching armchair and loveseat in the room. The walls of the room were white and the floor was carpeted a dark brown. Etiquette dictated that he should sit on either the loveseat or couch, though he dare not until the lady was seated.

"This is a lovely home," he easily lied, though, for some reason, it didn't feel like a lie. He kept his facial expression relaxed and seemingly enjoyable. He had to make sure these people liked him, after all, so he would remain charming.

"Thank you," she said with a smile. "Would you like tea? Or perhaps… I think Hermione told me you preferred brandy, yes?"

He turned his attention to her. There was no way these people would have a brandy he liked. "Tea is fine," he told her, "thank you."

He glanced at the hallway as he heard heavy footsteps coming from the stairs. His eyes narrowed as he listened to the sound. He watched as an older man entered the room. This man was balding, though what hair he did have on his head was lighter and more grey than his wife's. He had brown eyes, much like Hermione's. He wasn't nearly as thin as his wife, nor was he portly, though Lucius could see that the man wasn't really in much shape.

"Ah, Lucius Malfoy," the man greeted as he held out his hand to the Pureblood. Lucius was careful to hide his distaste. "Anthony Granger, though most just call me Tony."

Lucius accepted the man's handshake, though he was curious, "Are you averse to being called 'Anthony'?"

The Muggle snorted. "Not really, though the only people to have really called me that have been my parents and usually only when they were cross," he said jovially. "Come, come, sit." He waved at the loveseat as he sat in the armchair.

Lucius glanced at the loveseat, but did not really make a move to sit down. He turned his attention, instead, to Elizabeth Granger as she set a steaming, flowery teapot upon a table between them. She placed three teacups down and, sitting on the edge of the couch, she began pouring tea into each cup.

Lucius moved to the loveseat the moment Elizabeth sat down and seated himself onto the edge of it. It was surprisingly comfortable and he looked down at the cushion with a raised eyebrow.

"Do you like sugar or honey in your tea, Lucius?" Elizabeth asked as she looked at him with a bemused smile.

He hated the idea that the Muggles were silently laughing at him, but he returned her smile graciously. "Neither, if you don't mind. I prefer my tea black."

She nodded kindly and handed him the teacup. She handed another teacup to her husband, who added a bit of honey to his drink. Taking the third cup for her own, she added some sugar and scooted back on the couch.

"So, Lucius, we received your letter and, I must say, I'm a bit confused," Anthony said as he took a small sip of his tea.

Lucius took a sip of his own tea, silently impressed with how smooth it tasted. He never expected Muggles to know how to properly brew tea. He was certain they didn't have house-elves. "I'm afraid I don't understand," he replied, looking at the, obviously older, man.

"Tony has never heard of anyone 'courting' someone before," Elizabeth explained as she offered an apologetic smile.

"That's not really true, dear. Didn't they do that back during the Victorian Age? Eliza said it was like dating?" Anthony inquired with a frown.

Lucius suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "Not exactly," he said, "though you are on the right track, I believe. When a wizard courts a witch, he is evaluating whether or not she would be a good marital match for him. We go on outings together and become better acquainted with one another."

"So, you date," Anthony concluded simply, glancing at his wife.

Lucius pressed his lips together. "Dating is what children do," he said, calmly. "If this courtship goes as well as I'm hoping..."

"And what are you hoping for, Lucius?" the Muggle asked, glancing at his wife dubiously. "You do realize Hermione is twenty-five years your junior?"

He was starting to become tired of people pointing that out to him as if he didn't already know. He straightened up and silently counted to ten. "I do," he admitted. Perhaps they simply did not know, they were Muggles, after all. "People within the Wizarding community do tend to live much longer than Muggles. Right now, she is half my age, however, in five to ten years, the gap between our ages will shorten considerably."

"No matter how much time passes, you will always be twenty-five years older than her," Elizabeth stated. "Pardon the bluntness, Lucius, but are you hoping to make her your wife?"

"Would you be opposed to it?" he returned as set his empty cup down. The tea really had been delicious, but the conversation was beginning to leave a sour taste in his mouth.

"Hermione is a grown woman," Elizabeth reasoned slowly. She glanced at her husband and then back at Lucius. "Honestly, neither of us have any say in how she lives her life. We can't exactly stop her if she were to decide to marry you. But it is rather early in your courtship, isn't it?"

Lucius gave a single nod. "It was less than a week ago when I ran into her," he admitted. "Tradition dictates that I am to approach her parents before I even offer to take her out to a meal, but I couldn't help myself. It was a bit of a spur of the moment. For that, I apologize. I was so enamored with her, though, I couldn't help myself."

"Well, she, obviously, agreed to it, so there's no harm there," Elizabeth commented, waving her hand as though to wave away his concern.

"I would hope you treat her with respect, though," Anthony said as he watched Lucius. "If I remember correctly, you weren't overly fond of Muggles, or Muggleborns, when we first saw you. In fact, I do believe you had gotten rather physical with Arthur Weasley over it."

Lucius sniffed at that comment. "Mr. Weasley and I have always held differing opinions on many aspects of life," he said, "I apologize for any distress we may have caused you on your second trip into our world. However, if you also recall, he attacked me, not the other way around."

Anthony opened his mouth to comment, but Elizabeth cut him off. "It matters not," she said, glaring at her husband. "The past is in the past and that is where it shall stay." She looked back at Lucius and her eyes softened. "It is clear to me that you've had a change of heart over the years, Lucius. At least where my daughter is concerned. Though I do not know you, I have a feeling we will become better acquaintances over time."

Lucius flashed a rather charming smile. "Of course," he agreed. "And if things pan out the way I am hoping, then we will certainly become better acquaintances."

"Does she know of your intentions?" Anthony asked.

Lucius frowned. "I think she suspects, but I haven't said anything yet," he admitted. "We are meeting on the 'morrow, however, and I do intend to inform her."

"Is everything you do a business transaction?" Elizabeth asked as she shifted in her seat. Lucius didn't answer.

Anthony drank the rest of his tea, and studied Lucius for a moment. "Actually, Lucius, I do have a question for you. Hermione did tell us a bit about this 'courtship' that the two of you are doing. Now, forgive me, but Muggles haven't courted since the Victorian Age, and I don't particularly care for the possessive implications in regards to my grown daughter. What exactly are you expecting of my daughter at the end of this courtship? Aside from marriage, that is."

(III)(III)

He plopped into his armchair by the fireplace in his study. It had been a rather stressful and annoying evening for Lucius. It turned out that he needn't have bothered with asking Hermione's parents for their consent. It apparently wasn't a customary thing in the Muggle community. This annoyed Lucius greatly as he felt as though he just wasted precious time he could have used more productively.

Pulling his wand out of his walking stick, he pointed it up and idly whirled it. Behind him, an emerald green crystal snifter burst into life along with a matching decanter, which opened itself and began pouring some brandy into the snifter. Lucius closed his eyes a little and waited as the decanter righted itself and the snifter of brandy floated to him.

Holding his hand up, the snifter rested itself in his palm. He stashed his wand back into the walking stick and, cupping the snifter in his hands, took a sip of the brandy. He tilted his head back as his mind went through the encounter with the Muggles.

Upon reflection, he did learn a few things about his elusive Muggleborn. Of course, much of it he had already known, like the part she played in the war as well as her perchance for reading and knowledge. Although she had enjoyed the gardens and blushed at the rose he had offered her, he noted that her favorite flowers were daisies. She wasn't much into spontaneity, either, and she always kept her wand on her person. From the photos that were on the mantle of her parents' sitting room, it was evident that the small family was close and valued one another's opinions. He hoped he had left a good impression upon her parents. If not, he would simply sway them later. Of course, he had used a bit of magic to… appeal to their better senses when he had visited. By the end of the visit, it seemed that Elizabeth was rather smitten with him, while Anthony had invited him to a "football" game. As if the aristocrat would lower himself in such a disgraceful way!

He sighed. Then again. Wasn't he already lowering himself disgracefully by pining over a Mudblood? Once they married, and Draco had ensured that Lucius would certainly marry the girl, the Malfoy family would be defamed. Blood-traitors. Impure. What difference did it make if Lucius joined Anthony to watch a "football" game? What the hell was "football" anyway?

He contemplated going to his library to see if there were any books on the subject, but immediately dismissed that idea. "Football" was a Muggle sport. As such, he knew there would be no references of it within his library. Perhaps, while Miss Granger was out shopping tomorrow, Lucius would go to Flourish & Blotts and see if they had any information on the topic.

He downed his brandy in one go, unable to believe, or accept, that he was actually considering learning more about Muggle things… Muggle things. What a vile and repulsive idea.

Maybe he should reconsider this madness of pursuing Hermione Granger. Having dinner with her had been nice. She was beautiful and, obviously, intelligent. However, she was also twenty-five years his junior and… Well, her age certainly wasn't a problem. It wasn't as if he had never fucked a girl young enough to be his daughter. Hell, just last month he had joined a friend of his in fucking Pansy Parkinson, and that girl was the same age as Miss Granger.

Taking a deep breath, he stood and went to his wet bar to refill his drink. Fact was, Parkinson, despite her Pureblood background, had all the true appeal of a flobberworm. She was idiotic, and quite the slut, having gotten the only job she could out of Hogwarts in a brothel in Knockturn Alley.

Hermione Malfoy.

Was Lucius ready to sully his bloodline with a Mudblood? What choice did he have, though? Despite his contributions to the wizarding world since the war, he was still rather blemished. Most people avoided him when necessary. His wife had left him for someone younger. His son hardly had anything to do with him outside what was necessary for their company. He couldn't even go into the Ministry without raising suspicion.

The best way to regain what he had before was to marry well. And to marry someone who wouldn't leave him as soon as the opportunity arose. He also wanted someone who was beautiful and intelligent. Someone who could satisfy his mind as well as sensual nature.

Hermione Granger fit his needs perfectly. Well, except the sexual part. Sure, she was sexy, but given that they haven't had sex yet… He wondered if she was still a virgin. How much stock did Muggles put into female virginities anyway? Did they hold onto their virginities until marriage much like Purebloods did? (Except, of course, Pansy Parkinson, but that girl had been ruined long before Lucius had touched her.) _Probably should have thought of this before you started pursuing her, Lucius_ , he thought.

Marrying a virgin was best within Pureblood society, but he wasn't planning on marrying a Pureblood, so maybe it didn't matter? Besides, he was divorced, so he couldn't truly be upset with her if she wasn't a virgin. But, if she _was_ a virgin, that would be even better, wouldn't it? Then maybe, just maybe...

There had to be a Pureblood witch he could fuck for the night, right? At least for now.

No. Better not. He needed to keep his mind straight. Besides, he hoped that soon enough, he won't have to worry about sex at all. Weren't Mudboods known for their deviancy?

He set his drink upon the table next to him and closed his eyes, thinking about the things he and Hermione could do once they were married. If she was a virgin, then he could be her tutor. If not, well, she did love to learn and he was certain he knew more than a few things he could teach her.

He fisted his hardon as he thought of her. She was young. Her body was curvy, but small. Her breasts… he sighed. He still remembered her pert little breasts he had spied that day in the gardens. He wanted to cup them, to see how well they fit into his hand. From what he had seen that day, she seemed to be the perfect size for him. He wasn't overly fond of a big bosom. Breasts just large enough to fit into his hands, however… He wanted to lick and suckle on her nipple, to see how sensitive she was… He spilled his seed into his lap and closed his eyes, ashamed.

He made a face of disgust as he retrieved his wand and Scourgified the mess on his lap. If he wanted a future with Miss Granger, he would need to get over this feeling that she was gross because of her blood.

He had seen her blood. It certainly wasn't dirty. And he reminded himself of that. He stood up and unclasped his robes. Peeling them off, he tossed them to the side. He had actually liked those robes, too, but now they were ruined. He didn't blame Miss Granger for it, of course, though he had started to.

He sighed. Even in his Hogwarts days, when he first started having such urges, he had never acted so… He was far too prim and proper to soil himself in such a way. Doing so bothered him more than he cared to admit. He had always been in control of his bodily needs. Maybe it _was_ her fault? Had he not been thinking of her, he wouldn't have had such a randy urge.

He paused again and shook his head. Maybe tomorrow he could coax her into having a wild night with him. First, though, he would need to figure out if she was a virgin. His desire for her to be warred with his need to taste her, to feel her, to be inside her. Perhaps, if she was a virgin, he could coax her into a bit of foreplay? They didn't have to actually have sex to explore one another's bodies, after all. Just a little taste and tease...

Frowning, he decided to head to his room. He desperately needed a cold shower. If she was a virgin, cold showers would quickly become the norm for him until they married. God, he hoped she wasn't.

(IV)(IV)

Lucius casually browsed through the Muggle section of Flourish & Blotts while silently berating himself. He was going to be fifty-one later this year, and yet, here he was browsing the Muggle section to impress a witch! He didn't even know what he was looking for, exactly.

He did find a book about basic Muggle lingo. Flipping through it, he saw many terms he sort of recognized, but many more that he didn't. Deciding the book might be worth deeper perusing later, he tucked it under his arm and continued scanning the shelf.

Fortunately, the bookshop had only one shelf devoted to Muggle books and literature, so it really didn't take him much time to view it all. _Un_ fortunately, he couldn't really find what he was looking for, and he dare not ask the shopkeeper for assistance.

He pulled out a book on Muggle vineyards and raised an eyebrow. Of course, the Malfoy vineyards held the greatest wine in all of Britain, but it was always good to know what his competition was. If he and Miss Granger did marry, perhaps he could expand his business into the Muggle world? There certainly was untold profits to be had.

"Lucius?" called a feminine voice in curiosity.

Lucius snapped the book shut and glanced up to see Hermione Granger standing before him with a large grin on her face. "I thought that was you," she said with a giggle.

He offered her a soft smile. "Hello, my dear," he greeted. "Enjoying your shopping adventure?"

She snorted and rolled her eyes. Leaning forward, she whispered, "I was hoping to find a white knight to save me." Her grin widened and she spoke in a more normal voice, "And then I found you! Not exactly what I was expecting, but it works out for me. So, what brings you to Flourish & Blotts?"

"I'm no white knight, darling," he assured her with a devilish glint. He showed her the book he had been inspecting. "I was hoping to find some light reading. When I was visiting your parents yesterday, your father had invited me to a 'football' game, should things between you and I develop further. Given that I haven't a clue what such a game is, exactly, I thought I would come here to be enlightened."

"Good Lord, that man!" she laughed. "I'm surprised your ears still work. He loves his football about as much as Harry loves Quidditch."

Lucius looked at her curiously. "Is it like Quidditch, then?" he asked.

She wrinkled her nose. "Not quite," she told him. Looking at the shelf, she found a book and pulled it out to hand to him.

He frowned at the title. "Soccer?"

She nodded. "'Football' and 'soccer' are interchangeable words that mean the same thing. Some countries have other games they play that they call 'football', so they use the word 'soccer' to differentiate to keep from confusing people."

"Sounds confusing."

She giggled. "It is. Horribly so," she agreed.

"So, how has your shopping trip gone?" he asked, not really wishing to talk about soccer, or football, or whatever the game was called.

She held up a small jeweled purse. "We had just finished, actually. I was getting ready to head home when I saw you in the window," she explained. "Thought I would come and say hello."

"Would you like to grab some lunch?" he asked. "We could go to the Manor and I could have the house-elves bring us some sandwiches."

"That sounds perfect, actually," she said with a smile. "Give me a moment so I can tell Ginny that I'm leaving?"

He nodded to her and she skipped out the store. He took a deep breath as she left. Her blue jean shorts with white trainers and light green peasant blouse had made his heart rate increase and he had silently pleaded with his groin to behave itself while she was there. He wanted to follow her just so he could wrap his arm around her waist.

He walked up to the counter and set the books down upon it.

"That will be 10 Galleons, 13 Sickles, and 21 Knuts, sir," the clerk said.

Lucius nodded as he handed the boy 11 Galleons. As he waited for his change, Hermione reentered the shop with a large smile on her face. He grinned at her.

"Thank you so much," she said breathlessly. "As much as I love Ginny, I really do hate shopping. Now, this kind of shopping, of course, I can get behind." She looked around the shop.

Lucius followed her gaze. "Wait until you see my library," he commented causing her to pause and look at him. He shrugged. "Through the centuries, my family has collected books, many of which are first editions, and some are even signed."

Her eyes widened slightly as her smile faltered. "Why am I not surprised?" she asked.

As the clerk handed him his change, Lucius gathered the books he purchased and allowed Hermione to lead him outside. "Wait," he said as she began walking towards the Leaky Cauldron.

She stopped to look at him. He tucked his cane under his arm and held his hand out to her. "It'll be quicker if we Apparate," he explained.

She accepted his hand and stepped closer to him. Finally! This is what he had been wanting. He pulled her close to him and slipped his hand around her waist. "Put your arms around my neck," he gently instructed as he bent his knees a bit to help her reach better.

She grinned. "Missed me that much?" she teased.

He returned her grin as he dipped his head slightly to brush his lips against hers, though he did not kiss her. Her lips popped open in surprise as he breathed against her lips, "You have no idea."

Holding her firmly against him, he Disapparated.

* * *

Author's Notes: A thousand and one thanks to cowgalnina and Elle Morgan-Black, my two wonderful, glamorous betas! And also thank you to all you lovely people who have read, liked, favourited, reviewed, and followed this story. You are my bread and butter! Shout out to Silver Orbed Lioness as well for her help in British etiquette. This story wouldn't even be possible without you, my friend. :)

If you check out my Lumione group Elm & Vine on Facebook, you will be able to see the aesthetics I post for this story, as well as seeing stories posted by other members of the group. (Can I just say that we have a talented bunch there, including Silver Orbed Lioness and Elle Morgan-Black, just to name a couple.)


	4. Chapter 3

The moment they landed in Malfoy Manor, Lucius wrapped his arms around her as his lips crashed upon hers. The exchange was heated as he lifted one of her legs and pressed his longing against her.

She broke the kiss, throwing her head back with a loud moan. "Oh, god, Lucius!" she pleaded.

Encouraged by her moans and pleas, he walked her backwards to the wall and pressed her against it. He rubbed his clothed arousal more urgently against her, hitting her core, as he kissed along her neck. She truly was a delectable little witch, even if she was a Mudblood.

"Lucius, please," she whimpered as he slipped a hand under her blouse and ran it up her back.

"I want you," he whispered against her collarbone. "You taste so delicious."

She pushed against him. "Wait," she requested as she tried to push him off of her.

Licking her collarbone one last time, he looked at her with hooded, lustful eyes. "You're so beautiful, so sexy," he told her. "I want to bring you to my chambers so I can ravish you and taste you."

She looked at him with a mixture of fear, desire, and something else that he couldn't quite place. "We barely know each other," she insisted breathlessly.

He lifted a hand and pushed some of her hair out of her face. Resting his forehead against hers, he smirked. "Depends on how you look at it," he reasoned. "Technically we've known one another for years."

She clutched at his robes over his chest and pushed at him lightly. "We've known _of_ one another for thirteen years," she corrected. "And of those thirteen years, only the last few days have we looked at one another with something other than disdain and scorn. Don't you find that odd?"

He lifted his head so he could gaze down at her better. He raised an eyebrow. "And what of it? Is it not possible for old acquaintances to become more knowledgeable with one another? To become attracted to one another?" He brushed a bit of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. "And I do want to become better acquainted with you, Hermione, for I am _quite_ attracted to you. By your responses to my kiss and touch, I assume you feel the same," he purred as he dipped his head and pressed his lips upon hers again.

He needed her to stop talking. More importantly, he wanted to get her into his bedchambers and into his bed. The taste of the Mudblood was heedy and intoxicating and, somehow, he knew that once he had her in his bed, she was his. Her fingers tightened their grip upon his robes and he could feel her beginning to melt against him. He deepened the kiss.

She was responding to him so well, too. Her hands loosened their hold on his robes and began drifting to his neck and hair as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. One of his hands fell to her waist and under her blouse, teasing the skin, while the other drifted further down. Bending his knees slightly, he hooked his hand under her knee and draped it around his waist as he lifted her up, securing her between himself and the wall. She gasped and tore her mouth away from his as he pressed his erection against her.

"Lucius," she breathed as he left a trail of kisses along her jaw to her neck, lost in his lust. The sound of his name on her lips stirred the beast inside him and he jutted his clothed member against her.

"Say it again," he whispered hotly against her neck.

"Lucius," she repeated just as breathlessly as before. "Lucius, please."

Fueled by her words, he lifted the hand at her waist to dig his fingers under her bra and cup a breast, squeezing it lightly. He inwardly groaned at the silent confirmation. She fit perfectly in his hand! He ran his thumb over her nipple and lifted his head to kiss her lips again.

She rested her hands on his shoulders and pushed at him again. Breaking the kiss, she tried to look at him, but he simply started kissing her chin and neck again. "Lucius, wait," she said. She pushed at his shoulders again and struggled a little to get back onto her own feet. "We have to stop," she pleaded.

He froze, releasing her neck, though he still cupped her breast. "We don't," he breathed hotly against her skin. "We can keep going, if we want."

She cupped his jaw and guided him to look at her. "We can't," she reaffirmed. "Not right now. Not yet." His eyes narrowed at that as his lips pinched together. She rubbed his jawline and looked gently into his eyes. "You said you wanted help in finding your sister, and you promised to take me out to dine later. We'll never get any of that done if we continue to act like randy teenagers."

He set her back down, releasing his hold upon her. They were both breathing heavily, though he managed it much better. He blinked once, to tamper his lust. "My apologies," he said once he was sure he could speak properly again. "You are unlike other witches that I have been with and, as such, I am not entirely certain of the rules."

"You mean you've never dated a Muggleborn," she pointed out, looking at him curiously.

"Indeed, though I wouldn't quite call it 'dating'," he said, frowning. He wasn't a peasant, after all, and the word left a sour taste in his mouth.

"Courting, then," she rectified with a smile. As he gave her a nod of assent, she chuckled. "I honestly don't think it's much different than what Muggles are raised to do," she reasoned.

"No?" he questioned as he took a step away from her and held out his hand. As she placed her hand in his, he led her to his study. "When I visited your parents they seemed quite confused that I would call upon them for permission to court you."

"Well, they were flattered," she told him. "I spoke with my mum last night and she told me how surprised she was that you had visited them. For what it's worth, I think my dad did appreciate it. I am an only child and you are the first man to take such an initiative."

His brow furrowed. "Surely you've had other wizards come to call?" he asked, confused as to how a woman as beautiful as she wouldn't.

She smiled. "Oh, I've dated, sure," she said. "Viktor Krum had asked me to the Yule Ball during the Triwizard Tournament my fourth year, and Ron and I were together for a time after the war. Oh, and there was that one time in my sixth year when I went to Slughorn's Christmas party with Cormac McLaggen, but I wouldn't really consider that a date, per se, as I had only gone with him to make Ron jealous."

He felt his heart catch as she spoke. He didn't want to believe he was lucky, or unlucky maybe, enough to manage to draw the attention of a virgin. If that were the case, he would have to tread more carefully. He needed a way of finding out the truth without asking her. After all, such a question was, in his mind, highly inappropriate.

"I assume your ploy worked, given that you were with Mr. Weasley," he surmised.

She sighed as he opened the door to his study and allowed her to enter. "Not at first. Ron can be so thick at times," she admitted. "But, eventually, he managed to understand, obviously." She looked about the room. "I honestly thought he had been the One."

Lucius walked into the study as he thought over her words. Of course Mr. Weasley wasn't "the One" for her, because, in Lucius's mind, that would be him. Crossing the green Axminster carpeted floor to his desk, he tapped the file cabinet to the side of his desk with his cane, unlocking it. He glanced at Hermione and caught her gazing about the room idly.

Like most rooms in his Manor, the study was well equipped. From his desk and to the right side, there was a massive polished onyx fireplace with a dark wood mantle. Above the mantle was a large plaque with the Malfoy crest and in front of the fireplace were two leather Wingback armchairs with foot cushions. Dark wood tables sat beside each chair. Between them sat a large, plush leather couch. Next to the fireplace, close to the door, was a fully-stocked wet bar. In the center of the room was a large crystal chandelier. Across from the bar, to Lucius's current left, were two large built-in dark wood bookshelves that reached from floor to ceiling. Both shelves were laden with books and small sculptures made of wood and marble, including a marble bust of Salazar Slytherin and one of Merlin. There was a black curtain covered window between the bookshelves and two filing cabinets that kept all of Lucius's financial dealings.

Behind his desk was another large window with ebony curtains blocking the midday sun. With a wave of his wand, the curtains of both windows parted to reveal rolling fields of bluebonnets. The cabinet he had unlocked was on the opposite side of the desk, between the window and fireplace. "There are more records within the library, but I thought we should start with these first," he explained as he opened the top drawer. "My father was meticulous in keeping an account of every transaction he made, though it's been many years since I've bothered to look through them."

"Have you never been curious about your sister?" she asked as she ran her fingers along the top of the couch.

He lifted a shoulder slightly as he idly wondered how she would react if he were to force her onto the couch and take her. However, he tamped down that urge. He would wait until he learned more of her. If she was a virgin, as he suspected, he would have to hold off until they were married. Or, at least, until he was certain they were going to get married. Of course, he could always just take her virginity. No one else would be able to claim…

"I didn't really think it mattered much," he said. "With the Dark Lord reigning, it really wasn't prudent to seek her out. Squibs didn't really factor in the Dark Lord's plans and, if anything, they were considered a burden. We certainly couldn't have them breed, and I do believe the Dark Lord would have used her against my father had he known of her."

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "You sound like you're speaking of a mixed breed dog, Lucius," she pointed out in distaste. "She's your sister. If she's living in the Muggle community and is married, there is a chance that she has children of her own. This isn't a bad thing. It just means that she's living her life."

"That isn't my intent," he assured her, frowning. "I am merely explaining why I never sought her out. During the Dark Lord's reign, it was better to forget her existence than it was to put her at risk."

She sighed as she dropped her hands and made her way to him. "I know, I just…" She closed her eyes and shook her head. Looking at him she asked, "Why follow him? If you knew the threat towards your sister, why bother with him? I mean, I assume you loved your sister, right?"

He reached out to lightly brush the back of his fingers against her cheek. Her skin was so soft, so smooth. "I asked you to help me find her because I did love her. I am curious to know how she has managed all these years," he explained. He moved his hand away from her and lifted a brow. "As for the Dark Lord, I was a rebellious teen, and believed that, one day, I would rule the world. The Dark Lord was merely a means to an end."

"At what cost, though?" she questioned. "How far were you willing to go to 'rule the world'?"

He quirked his brow and opened the top drawer of the cabinet. "As far as necessary," he responded. "At least, when I was younger. After having my wife go through four failed pregnancies, having the Dark Lord debase me, and seeing my only child become something I never wanted him to be, however, my ideals changed."

She sighed and began looking through the folders in the cabinet. "Your father had excellent penmanship," she commented as she pulled out a folder and flipped through it.

"All Malfoys do," came his immediate response as he glanced at her. "From the moment we first pick up a quill, we learn how to write properly."

She smiled at him, though he couldn't quite determine whether the smile was one of amusement, adoration, or admiration. He returned her smile with a small one, hiding his uncertainty. She turned her attention back to the filing cabinet and they fell into a companionable silence as they worked.

(II)(II)

Upon the mantle of the fireplace was an old clock that chimed to alert the hour. Lucius gazed up at it from his desk where he sat behind several stacks of files Hermione had pulled. He rubbed his weary eyes as he glanced at the young Gryffindor.

Though he had several actual chairs she could sit in, the bushy-haired witch sat cross-legged on the floor in front of one of the cabinets. The cabinet was opened in front of her and she was sifting through the files, opening them to browse their contents before putting them back and lifting the next one.

Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail with a quill resting on her ear. How she managed to keep the quill from falling off, Lucius hadn't a clue, but she was rather breathtaking. It had been hours since either had said a word to one another. The last exchange he remembered, regarded the files on his desk. Hermione hadn't been able to decipher the contents due to the fact they were in another language, though she had recognized his father's handwriting.

He had sifted through the files, but found there was no mention of his sister. Leaning back in his chair, he lazily gazed at her again. Seeing her work, watching her dedication, endeared her to him and he smirked softly. Glancing at the clock again, he stood up and stretched. He really was getting too old for this. Too many years bent over documents and making sense of numbers. Perhaps Hermione wouldn't be opposed to a romantic getaway to Tuscany? A week under the summer sun on the beach could do wonders for the both of them, he thought. Draco knew enough of the Malfoy accounts to oversee things for a week…

Sighing, he picked up his cane from where it had been leaning against the desk and walked around the dark furniture to where Hermione was sitting, lost in her work. He looked down at her. "There is a guest room a few halls down where you can do the necessary preparations for this evening, should you wish," he said, breaking the silence.

Startled, she looked up at him. "Is it seven already?" she asked, her eyes wandering as she searched for the clock.

He smiled bemusedly. "No, it is a quarter after five," he assured her. "However, you did say it took you at least an hour or more to bathe, dress, and be ready, and I would hate us to miss our reservation."

She nodded in agreement and slipped the file she was holding back into its spot. "There's still so much work to do," she pointed out. "Your father was really good at keeping things hidden from prying eyes."

He lifted his brow in lieu of a shrug as he held out a hand for her to take. "That he was," he agreed. "But then, there isn't a Malfoy in history who wasn't private or good at hiding that which he wished to not be found. Her file may well be in the library or very well buried."

"I suppose this means we will have to pick up our search for her again?" she asked as she accepted his hand and he helped her to stand.

As she stretched, he couldn't help but notice the delicious way her back arched and her breasts pushed out. He reined in his libido for what felt like the millionth time in just those few, relatively, short hours. "Would you be opposed to returning?" he asked.

She smiled prettily at him, her pearly whites flashing between her rosy pink lips. "Not at all," she answered. "Though I do think weekend meetings would be a bit of a drag, and quite time consuming. While I do feel we have made some sort of progress today, I wouldn't be against returning more often, at least until she is found."

He stopped to meet her eyes. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? "Perhaps if you were to return Monday?" he dared. "After your work, of course. I wouldn't want to impose on your daytime job. I know how important elvish welfare is to you."

"You aren't an imposition," she mumbled, blushing when she caught his stare.

The girl amazed him to no end. If he could, he would make her his wife this very day, given that pronouncement. "Perhaps an hour or two between work and supper each day, we could spend searching for my elusive sister. We don't always have to dine out as my elves are perfectly capable of serving us supper," he suggested, hoping against hope, that she would be agreeable.

"At least until you tire of me," she teased as they approached the aforementioned guest room.

His eyes softened as he drew her against him. Looking down into her cinnamon eyes, he bent down to brush his lips against hers. "I doubt I could ever tire of you, my dear," he whispered seductively.

He reached out behind her and turned the handle of the door to the room. "When you are ready, meet me back in my study. Do you remember the way?"

She nodded, her face pink and her eyes lit with a fire he was coming to understand as a desire to be close to him. He wanted so badly to follow her into the bedroom, but he didn't dare to do so, knowing he would be pressing his luck too much.

(III)(III)

He was nursing a glass of brandy when she walked back into the study. It hadn't taken him long to ready himself, and so, he had decided to await her while he thought over their current state of affairs.

The vision she bestowed upon him when she entered left him nearly breathless. He cocked a brow and gave her a mischievous smirk. "If I didn't know better, I would think you were attempting to seduce me, Miss Granger," he teased before finishing his glass and standing up.

She was dressed in the most elegant of robes. Deep, sparkling emerald green with a sleeveless sweetheart neckline and hourglass shaped skirt, highlighting some of her best features. Dangling white gold earrings with small emerald teardrops fell from her ears and a white gold matching necklace graced her neck. The robes even had a silver belt which wrapped loosely around her waist.

"Are you seducible?" she asked. She wore silver gloves that came up to her elbows and held her small beaded bag, which she had transfigured to be silver as well.

"You look as though you are Slytherin royalty, darling," he said as he approached her and held out his hand to her.

She smirked. "I thought I would dress the part," she commented, looking down at her gown. She glanced up at him between dark eyelashes. "If you'd like, I could change into something else."

Her makeup and hair were perfection. Her lips were as red as a rose and her hair hung in intricate ringlets about her face. He smirked as he lifted his brow. "It would depend on what you were to change into," he answered honestly. "And we would never make our supper if you were. Besides, you look perfect."

She blushed prettily. Since they were alone in his study, he acted upon his impulse. Drawing her to him, he kissed her. "I could take you right here," he whispered against her lips.

"Then we really would never make our reservation," she replied heatedly.

He paused as he looked at her. "And if we didn't," he said, eyes flashing as he watched her reaction, "what exactly would we do? I am not a virginal school boy. I am quite an experienced man."

Her cheeks pinkened even more and she gasped. "I know," she breathed and he could see her eyes widen slightly in mild fear. "I…"

There was his answer. The look in her eyes was all he needed to know. Not wanting to frighten her more, and desperately wanting to marry her as urgently as possible, he softened his eyes and gave her a kind smile. "Don't worry, my darling," he assured her, "you are safe with me. I would never do anything you do not wish."

He watched as she visibly relaxed as he filed away this new information. He would have to step up his game, especially if he wished to marry her, which he really did now. Perhaps the trip to Tuscany could wait until their honeymoon? That would probably be best.

They had only been courting for a week. Perhaps at the end of next week he could propose. He would need to read up on football, though, and look to see when the next game was. If he took Anthony up on his offer, he could curry favor with the Muggle and request his blessing for her hand.

There was an old wizarding tradition that he had missed out on when he married Narcissa. Unlike with Hermione, he and Narcissa had been betrothed at a rather young age. Because of this, there were no qualms between the two about experimenting before marriage. Unfortunately, their experimentation meant that they had not been able to properly bind to one another, so they were able to end their marriage after the war. With Hermione being a virgin, that meant that he could bind with her. The idea of "divorce" would be off the table. She would be his until death parted them.

Flashes of how she would look in a wedding dress flitted through his mind as he helped her into the carriage outside the Manor. Of course, this did mean that he would have to rely on his right hand for a bit longer until they wed, but the prospect of marriage was looking brighter for him. And once they were married, he would be able to show her just how wonderful sex with him could be. He would have her begging for his dick on the regular by the time he was done. And she would be his in every way possible.

(IV)(IV)

The restaurant Lucius had chosen was the epitome of elegance and class. No matter how much Hermione questioned him, and changed how she questioned him, Lucius did not divulge how he had managed to procure a table within the establishment.

The host personally escorted them to a white cloth covered table. There were softly lit candles in the middle. The silverware was perfectly polished and gleamed in the candlelight. As the host pulled a chair out, Hermione looked at him curiously. "Madam?" he offered.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh!" she gasped a little and sat in the desired seat.

Lucius sat in the chair across from her. As the host left, their waiter came to them and offered them some champagne. At Lucius's nod, the waiter filled their flutes. "Shall I leave the bottle?" he asked.

"Yes," Lucius said. "While we look over the menu, would you bring us both some pea soup and crab and avocado toast?"

"Yes, sir. Right away," the waiter said with a bow and departed.

Hermione loved how private their table seemed, though she could tell they were busy. The restaurant was perfectly arranged so every party had their own little corner in the world. Elegant music played softly out of seemingly nowhere and the smells of delicacies and fresh baked bread filled the air.

"Most people have to book a table three years in advance," she told him, matter-of-factually. "And even then, there is no guarantee of a good table. Harry had told me that he had wanted to bring Ginny here to propose to her a few years back, but the wait was so long, he just couldn't do it. Can you imagine waiting three years to propose to the person you love?"

Lucius lifted a brow as he sipped his champagne. "Was she not worth the wait?" he countered.

She frowned as she looked at him. "Of course she is," she told him. "But don't you think being in a war and on the run for a year, denying his feelings for her for two years, and nearly dying in the process is a long enough wait? Honestly, I was surprised Ronald hadn't asked me the moment the war was over, but then, he had always been relatively thick."

He was getting rather tired of hearing about her ex. However, he sighed, "So, if you don't mind my asking, what did happen between the two of you? Given the stories Draco used to tell about the three of you, I was rather shocked to learn you and young Mr. Weasley had ended your affair. Though I am not disappointed."

The waiter returned with the appetizers and took their orders. Lucius chose a spiced chicken with coconut-caramel sauce and citrus salad while Hermione ordered a cavatelli with spicy winter squash. As the waiter picked up their menus, Lucius offered Hermione a soft smile.

It was her turn to sigh as she took a sip of her own champagne. "Once he 'realized' his feelings for me, Ron did ask me out," she admitted. "Though it didn't take too long after that to propose. While I didn't mind the short wait, and I did accept his proposal, I was taken aback by his talk of children and my staying at home to care for them. The whole thing was overwhelming and, forgive me," she lowered her voice, "we hadn't even had sex yet, and I had barely finished my N.E.W.T.s."

The confirmation that the pauper hadn't taken from Hermione what so rightly belonged to Lucius, thrilled the man. At least, in his mind. The boy didn't deserve her. "Do you not want children?" he asked.

"Oh, I do," she told him. "But not nearly as many as he wanted, and certainly not so soon after graduating Hogwarts. There were so many things I wanted to accomplish first before I even thought about children."

So, he could indulge in his fantasy of seeing a plump Hermione ripe with his child. That was good to know and he quickly filed that information for later perusal. "And have you accomplished them?" he asked.

She looked at him curiously. "Have I accomplished what?"

"The things you wished to accomplish before you considered children." he elaborated as the waiter approached them with their plates of food.

Hermione's eyes widened at the plates. The one he set before her was so gorgeous and smelled so good. It was, truly, culinary art and she almost hated the idea of messing it up. She glanced at Lucius's plate and her mouth watered. She had never seen grilled chicken dressed so nicely.

She smiled at the waiter and thanked him as he set her plate down. Once he departed, she turned her attention back to Lucius. "Mostly," she replied to his question. "I mean, there is still so much to do, but I am comfortable enough to entertain the idea."

"Have you spoken to Mr. Weasley about this change of heart?" he asked as he cut into his grilled chicken.

She wrinkled her brow. "Why would I? Ron's married now," she told him. "He found a woman, a witch, who wanted the same things he did. They are currently expecting their second child, and I have no interest in him outside of a platonic relationship. He and Harry have become like brothers to me."

"Something that stems from fighting a war together," he assumed.

She gave a single nod as she turned her attention to her own dish. Inside, Lucius was rejoicing. No interest in past relationships, a virgin, and a desire for children, Lucius couldn't believe his own luck. However, he prodded, "And what of Mr. Krum?"

She looked up at him. She quickly chewed and swallowed the food she had been eating. "What of him?" she asked as she picked up her flute and took a sip.

He quirked a brow. "He's an infamous international Quidditch star, and I know you've gone to at least one ball with him. Do you not wonder what may lurk in that direction?"

She pinched her lips together as she gazed at him. She gave a small sniff. "Are you trying to push me off on past affairs? Honestly, Lucius, if I had an interest in him outside of being pen pals and friends, don't you think I would be pursuing him instead of dining with you?" she asked. Not waiting for a reply, she countered, "And what of Narcissa? I know she is dating another now, but have you not attempted to try to win her back?"

"I did, at first," he confessed. "I had begged her to stay and nearly refused the divorce."

"What made you change your mind?" she asked, genuinely curious.

 _You did_ , he thought, thinking about the article he had read about the break up between Hermione and Mr. Weasley moments before he signed the divorce papers. However, he gave her a pointed look and replied, "I caught her shagging her young buck in our marital bed."

Her eyes widened. "I had forgotten that you had mentioned that. Oh Merlin, I am so sorry, Lucius."

"To be honest, I rarely think about that day and her transgression," he admitted.

She closed her eyes. "And I'm the idiot who keeps bringing it up. God, I feel so stupid."

He frowned. That wasn't exactly the direction he was going, and he wondered, briefly, if he should apologize to her, or reassure her. Though, that wasn't really the Malfoy way… "You are not an idiot," he found himself responding. What the hell was wrong with him? "A lapse in memory doesn't make you stupid, just forgetful. I imagine with the amount of things you _do_ memorize, something as minuscule as my previous relationship is rather moot."

"It wasn't moot," Hermione argued, looking apologetic. "You were married for, what, twenty years?"

"And most of that was in service to the Dark Lord," he pointed out. "Besides, as I have stated before, it was an arranged marriage. It's in the past, and therefore, it doesn't really matter anymore."

She nodded. "I feel the same about my past relationships. What happened, happened."

"But you still have feelings for them," he said, his eyes glittering in the candlelight.

She gave him a confused look. "Is that…? Oh, no. I mean, I care for them, sure, but I'm not…" She shook her head. "We're just friends, and that's all we will ever be. I don't want a relationship with either of them."

She took another sip of her champagne. "Can we talk about something else?" she asked.

"Gladly," he said.

The rest of the evening was spent in more pleasant conversation as they discussed a few of her pending cases as well as his business. The conversation was lively and he found himself lost in her company. As the waiter returned with Lucius's change, the aristocrat glanced at the young lady.

"Would you fancy a glass of wine?" he asked, standing and offering her his hand. When she accepted, he helped her stand.

She looked at him curiously. "Are you inviting me back to your place?"

He shrugged. "We don't have to go there," he said. "However, we cannot stay here. I, for one, am not ready for this night to end."

She gave him a smile. "Not tired of me yet?"

In response, he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. He gently caressed her cheek and tilted her face up slightly so they can gaze into one another's eyes. "You have golden flecks in your eyes," he told her. "When the light catches them, they glitter and shine like the sun."

Her smile widened as she blushed. "Staring at the sun can make you go blind," she countered wisely.

"Then the last thing I will ever gaze upon is your beauty. I can't imagine a better way to lose my sight," he whispered as he pressed his lips upon hers. He Apparated them to the manor as he deepened the kiss.

They stood in the parlour for a moment, with him simply holding her as she rested her head and hands on his chest. The intimacy was something new for Lucius and he found he wasn't as opposed to it as he thought he would be. He unclasped her cloak and sent it floating away to be hung. He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing as he allowed his hands to lightly brush over the length of her back. The dress she had worn seemed to lack any sort of backing and he was enjoying the feel of her soft, smooth skin. Perhaps he enjoyed it a bit too much, though, as he felt, rather than heard, her give a nervous chuckle.

Curious, he glanced down at her. "Is everything all right, darling?" he asked, causing her to meet his eyes.

"Perhaps it is I who should ask you that question," she said as he loosened his hold on her. She remained in his embrace, however. "Tell me, Mr. Malfoy. Do you normally keep a roll of coins in your pocket, or are you just happy to be with me?"

It took him a moment to understand before he realized she was referring to his erection. Inside, he felt highly embarrassed as he knew precisely how inappropriate such a thing was. He was no longer a schoolboy and this little Mudblood was hardly the sort of witch that would have warranted such a reaction in the past. What was she doing to him?

Outwardly, he raised a single eyebrow in response. "Perhaps that will do as an answer to your previous question?" he replied as he took a step away from her, effectively breaking their embrace for the moment.

She gave another nervous chuckle. "Didn't you invite me here for a glass of wine?"

"That I did," he answered. He offered her his hand and, when she took it, he lead her to his study. "Typically, I prefer to retire to the drawing room for such a nightcap, but I know there are some rather… unpleasant memories for you there."

"Thank you for your consideration," she said, "but if the drawing room is more comfortable, I wouldn't resist it. I mean, what happened in there to me happened years ago and the woman responsible is long dead. I may have some reservations, but I think some newer, more pleasant memories can help to rectify that, don't you?"

He paused and turned to look at her. Smiling slightly, he brushed her jawline with his fingertips and rested his thumb on her bottom lip. He ran a light trail along her lip to her chin. When she parted her lips a little, he bent down and kissed her again and pushed his hand into her hair. He didn't linger, however, as he broke the kiss and lead her to the drawing room instead.

Taking his wand out of his cane, he pointed it at the piano and soft music began to play as he turned his wand to the fireplace. A warm fire set the entire room into low light as he lead her to the sofa. "Wait here and I will pour our drinks."

Truth be told, the next few months or so were shaping up to be torturous for Lucius judging by his own erection and current desire and lust for her. He could easily see the desire in her eyes as well. He wanted nothing more than to throw her onto the sofa and have his wicked way with her. If he played his cards right, he could have her within two weeks at the earliest. Thanks to his impertinent son, though, he would be waiting to fully seduce her. Now that he was evaluating her for a potential wife, he had to make sure he kept her virtue. Of course, she didn't know he was planning to marry her. Honestly, he didn't even know how he was going to broach the subject to her.

He opened the bottle of wine with an audible pop and poured their drinks. Bringing the glasses to the fireplace, he handed her one and turned to sit in his armchair.

"We've dined together and have even kissed one another several times," she teased. "Will you not join me on the sofa, or do you fear that perhaps that might be a little too much?"

He froze before sitting down completely. "Your meaning escapes me, my pet," he said as he frowned. "What do you mean by 'too much'?"

She shrugged coyly and patted the space beside her. "I was only teasing you earlier. Though I have no brothers, both of my best friends are like brothers to me, which means they are male. I am not exactly naive to how a man's body works."

"If you were, that would make you just a temptress," he replied as he stood and joined her on the sofa. "As it is, you are more of an enchantress. I do not believe you know exactly what you are doing to me, what you've been doing to me since that day in the gardens. However, you certainly have an idea, I'm sure." Setting his glass upon the coffee table, he waved a hand over the table and a plate of sugar coated chocolates appeared.

"Oh, Lucius, I simply couldn't eat another bite," Hermione whimpered after sipping her wine and watched him.

He picked up one of the round sweets and looked at her. "Are you sure?" he asked. "Not even one?" He popped the treat into his own mouth and picked up another one. Licking his lips, he held the sweet up to Hermione's mouth. "They are very moist and delicious. Melt in your mouth."

She sighed. "If I didn't know better, I would think you were trying to seduce me," she said, watching him.

"Are you seducible?" he echoed, reminding her of the question she had asked him earlier. He touched the treat to her lips.

He watched as she met his eyes, and not letting go of his gaze, she opened her mouth slowly and let him feed her the chocolate. As he drew his fingers away, her tongue darted out to lick the chocolate off of them. He felt the wet touch go straight south and he nearly groaned.

"Tell me, darling," he whispered breathlessly. Straightening his throat to gain some control over his emotions, he continued, "This may be a bit off topic and I apologize in advance for veering off course, but earlier you had mentioned that you weren't quite yet ready for a child…"

She shook her head. "I never said that," she corrected him. "What I did say was that when Ron and I dated, right after Hogwarts, he wanted to marry then and have children almost immediately. At the time, I wasn't ready for them."

"And now?" he asked.

She looked at him curiously and took another sip of her drink. She went to reach for another chocolate and he batted her hand away. Startled, she stared at him as he picked up a sweet himself. "Allow me," he told her as he moved to press the sweet against her lips.

She bit her bottom lip before accepting the treat. She didn't take her eyes off of him as she ate the morsel. "What is your interest in this conversation?" she questioned.

Choosing his words quickly and carefully, he said, huskily, "My interest is you, my sweet morsel. I want to know your desires, your passions. All of them. I want to know everything about you so I can ensure I can help you succeed in your ambitions."

"I want two," she answered bluntly. "I grew up as an only child and I don't want my children to suffer that as well. I want to make it so that house elves are well compensated for their work and that werewolves can actually have a job. I want easy access for werewolves to get Wolfsbane potion so they can become productive members of society again. I want my children to grow up in a world where everyone is treated as equals and prejudice becomes something out of a fairytale book."

Where the hell did _werewolves_ come from? Lucius knew about the house elves, as he had heard more than enough about her various cases. Had she spoken of cases involving werewolves and he simply didn't catch it? "These are marvelous dreams that I do believe we can work on, though I don't know that we will ever truly rid the world of prejudice," he admitted.

"' _We_ can work on'?" she repeated. "You have a child. Would you really want another?"

"Draco is an adult now. Honestly, I do believe I spent more time in my study than actually watching him grow. Now it's too late. My relationship with my son is what it is, and there is very little I can do about it. I am lucky to have any sort of relationship with him at all," he confessed.

"He asked me out to dinner the other day," Hermione told him as she polished off her drink.

Lucius frowned. Damn that boy! He knew the little brat would try something, but he didn't think it would be so quickly. "And?"

Hermione shrugged. "I simply reminded him of his upcoming nuptials. Honestly, I think he sees me as some sort of harlot. As I've said to him, he's had fourteen years to show me that he was interested in me. But now that I am interested in his father, he suddenly has a change of heart?" She rolled her eyes. "Please! I'd rather lick dirt off my shoe. If he -."

Lucius silenced her as he grabbed her face and kissed her. He leaned over her, making her lay back so he could be on top of her as he deepened the kiss. He had never wanted her so desperately as he did in this moment. He ran a hand up along her side and cupped one of her clothed breasts as he began trailing kisses to her neck. He still marvelled with how perfectly it fit in his hand, even with her dress on.

His cock pressed painfully against the barrier of his trousers as he used his free hand to push her dress up, wanting to feel her skin. He planned on marrying her anyway, so would it really be a bad thing if he were to just take her now? As he suckled on her neck, teasing the sensitive skin with his teeth, he seriously thought this over.

She arched her back, pressing her breast against his hand. Throwing her head back, she moaned. "Lucius. Lucius, wait," she panted.

Releasing her neck, he glanced up at her with stormy eyes. "You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered, completely lost in his lust. "You taste so divine. I want to fuck you into this sofa. Can you feel it, love? Can you feel my cock? It wants you so badly." He accentuated this thought by jutting his dick more fervently against her leg.

"Lucius," she repeated. She buried her hands in his hair. "You're acting like a randy boy."

He propped himself up on his hands and knees, looking down at her as he breathed heavily. "It's been about that long since I've felt this way, my dear," he said, gruffly. Using one hand, he continued raising her dress up. "How wet are you? Tell me how much you want me, want my cock."

"It's too soon," she told him as she let her hands fall to his shoulders and begin pushing on him. "We hardly know each other. I - "

"Answer the fucking question," he growled as he pressed his covered cock against her core.

She snapped her mouth shut and her eyes narrowed in anger. "No," she said, her eyes blazing. "Get off of me! I'm not some little trollop or servant who will answer your every wish."

"Is that how you think I see you?" he demanded as he froze. He sat up, his face contorting in annoyance.

She was quick to get up and straighten her dress. "No, I don't," she replied. "But that is how you're currently treating me. I have standards, Lucius, and I won't lower them, no matter how much I am attracted to you."

"God damnit!" he snarled as he stood up and walked to his wet bar. He abandoned his wine glass and snatched up his decanter and a snifter. He ignored the aching in his loins, knowing he will now have to take care of it later.

"Perhaps I should go," she said as she stood.

He turned to look at her. He wanted to hurl his snifter at the fire and shout at her, but he stopped himself. No. Yelling at her and demanding that she service him wouldn't get him any closer to marriage. He closed his eyes, silently counting to ten. "Don't go," he told her. Opening his eyes, he saw her walk out of the drawing room. Cursing to himself, he slammed the snifter onto the table and quickly followed her.

"Hermione," he called as he quickened his pace to catch up to her. He never chased after anyone and it was really pissing him off to have to do so. "Hermione, wait," he said, keeping his voice calm and reaching out to grab her arm.

She came to a halt when he grabbed her arm and turned to look at him. She looked even sexier with her hair all askew and her eyes blazing. "I can't do this."

He frowned. "Do what?"

" _This_! I had a lovely time this evening until just now. We had dinner, we flirted, and even snogged a bit, but then you take this initiative and start feeling me up, wanting to fuck me like some hussy…"

"You asked me to sit with you!" he shouted, his voice echoing about the hall.

"To cuddle by the fire! Sweet Jesus, Lucius, does everything have to be about sex?"

"Narcissa and I divorced just last year. I haven't had a decent lay since Draco first started going to Hogwarts and I have _never_ courted someone. So, forgive me if I am a bit rusty and don't quite know what the fuck I'm doing," he growled. "You have all this knowledge about our world, but I know almost nothing about yours. All I know is that I want you in my life. I want to make this work, to make us work."

"What exactly are you hoping for, Lucius?" she asked. "Do you just want to shag me and be done? Because I don't - that's not the type of person I am."

He needed to backpedal and fast. "I want you to help me find my sister," he said. "In the meantime, I want to get to know you better, for you to get to know me better. I want us to build this relationship so we can…" He pushed his hair back.

"So we can what?" she pressed. "What do you want? We're just barely friends. We flirt, we date…"

"I don't want to be alone," he said. He hated displaying any sort of weakness to anyone no matter how true or false it was. "Eventually, I want to remarry, maybe even have another child or two. I fucked up with Draco. I want to, I don't know, try again."

Hermione frowned. "You didn't completely fuck up with Draco," she assured him. "I mean, he's spoiled and an asshole, but he's so smart. Were it not for me, he would have been number 1 in our year. He's learning your business and, from what you've told me, he's become quite the savvy businessman and is doing a fine job helping you run things. He has a beautiful fiancee and, one day, I believe he will have beautiful children. So, don't sell yourself short too much. You did something right, and…" She shrugged as she moved to sit on one of the steps of the grand staircase. "Who knows? Maybe in time you'll find someone who will make you a perfect wife, or…"

Was she trying to end things now? He couldn't have that. She was his ticket to getting back into society. "Maybe I've already found her," he said.

She looked up at him. God, he wished he knew Legilimancy. "My mother told me about the meeting you had with them, and what you said, what your end goal is," she acknowledged. "I didn't believe her, and I told her I wouldn't believe it until I heard it from you."

Fucking Muggles, he thought. He sighed. "I want to marry you," he said, silently kicking himself.

"You barely know me," she repeated. "We shared a sweet moment in the gardens and had a couple nice meals together. That hardly qualifies a person to be spousal material."

"I know you enjoy reading, that you have a fascination for books and learning. I also know that you have a kind heart. Just look at all you've done for house elves and repairing Hogwarts. And now you've taken an interest in werewolf rights as well?" he said. "I also know that you're highly intelligent. You went to school with Draco for six years and beat him in every class the two of you shared. Just watching you tonight, I know you have impeccable table manners. As beautiful as you are, all of those things just add to your beauty. You're funny, smart, brave, beautiful… You're a strong and powerful witch, Hermione, and you'll make any man proud to be your husband. I want that man to be me."

"You make me sound like some sort of perfect princess," she said, shaking her head.

"Well, I did call you Slytherin royalty tonight," he replied, smirking slightly. He sat on the steps beside her, thinking about the fact that he was currently ruining yet another perfectly good set of robes. What was it with her sitting on the floor? Was it a Mudblood thing? He held out his hand for her. As she placed her hand in his, he took a moment to study it. Frowning slightly, he said, "May I?"

She looked at him curiously and nodded. He stared at her hand as he slowly pulled the silver glove off. Her fingers were so dainty and tiny that his own hand engulfed hers. "What's this?" he asked as he noticed her nails were emerald in color.

"I didn't know if I was going to wear the gloves all night, so I painted my nails green to match the dress," she explained.

She really went all out, he mused. Sure, Narcissa had gotten manicures and pedicures, but she never painted her nails. Even he had gotten manicures a time or two. It was important to be well groomed at all times. He wondered, briefly, if Hermione's toes were painted to match or not. "And yet your lips are so red," he commented absently as he traced the lifeline on her palm.

"I'm not going to wear green lipstick," she said. "Also, I am a Gryffindor. I may have dressed for you, but I can't forget where I come from."

"You dressed for me?" He gazed up at her.

She gave him an amused smile. "Of course, silly. I already told you that I am attracted to you, and you asked me out. I wanted to impress you. Not to mention," she stated matter-of-factually, "I had to make sure I looked as though I belonged with you. Make all the other witches… well, pardon the pun, but green with envy." She wrinkled her nose and smiled.

He smirked. Oh, yes. She will make a fine Malfoy. "Such a devious mind," he praised. He lifted her hand and, looking her in the eyes, placed a kiss in the middle of her palm. "Will you give me another chance, then? Will you stay, help me find my sister, and continue to allow me to court you?"

"May I be frank with you for a moment, Lucius?" she asked.

He paused in his contemplation of licking her palm and frowned. "One of your best qualities is your honesty, my darling."

"I've never… gone all the way with a man before," she said.

He lifted a single brow as he kissed her palm again. "I know."

"I mean, I've never had a real issue with premarital sex. Virginity is just a myth anyway," she continued, and he felt his cock stirring again. "From what I've read, the only reason it really hurts for a woman during the first time is because she isn't properly lubricated. Sex is, after all…"

"Darling," he interrupted her and gave her a meaningful look, "it might be best to change this subject or get to your point in as few details as possible."

She sighed. "My point is, despite all of that, I do want to wait until marriage. Call it a childish fantasy, but I always had this thought of having my first sexual experiences being for and with my husband. It may be an old-fashioned idea, but… I don't know. It just seems special."

His eyes glittered and he kissed her palm again. "There's nothing wrong with that, and I do look forward to that gift when you choose to bestow it upon me."

" _If_ I choose to bestow it upon you," she corrected. "A few weeks from now, you may grow bored of me and decide to end this, or one of us may do something the other deems unforgivable and we may call it quits."

He shrugged. "I doubt it," he said and kissed her palm once more.

She frowned. "Why do you keep doing that?"

"Doing what?" he asked as he brushed his lips lightly against her palm.

She gasped as he kissed her palm again. "You keep… kissing my palm. It… Well, it feels funny."

He dropped her hand into his lap, careful to not brush it against his cock. As great as that would feel… He tapped his fingers along her lifeline and explained, "There is more to intimacy than just vaginal sex. All through your body there are little sensational points. They are what make things such as sex feel so good. If you are amiable to it, I would like to explore some of these points with you sometime. We don't have to have sex."

"Foreplay," she rightly guessed. "But doesn't that usually lead to sex?"

He tilted his head a bit in lieu of a shrug. "Most of the time, yes, but it doesn't have to always lead to sex. Also, there are other things besides traditional vaginal sex. Many Purebloods engage in these other things before marriage as they don't, _technically_ , count."

"I've read about those things, too," she commented. "Some of them I've heard can be quite painful."

He leaned in close to her. Brushing his lips softly against her ear, he whispered, "I will never do anything to intentionally cause you pain, my little flower. In fact, pleasure does not have to include pain. A kiss," he kissed her ear lobe lightly, "a caress," his fingertips brushed along her palm, "a taste… When you are ready, I will worship you from head to toe. I can give you pleasure, without sex, like nothing you've ever dreamed. You'll see stars as you melt within my grasp."

He pulled back slightly to see her face heavily flushed. He bit back a smirk, knowing he had her. He lifted his hand up and brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers before gently cupping her jaw. He pressed his lips against hers and wasn't surprised when she melted into his arms.

Draco would marry soon. Once that is out of the way, Lucius's plan to wed the delicious little Mudblood would be well on the way.

Breaking the kiss and drawing back, they continued their idle chatter for much of the night until he lead her to the fireplace in his study and she Flooed home.

* * *

 **Author's Notes** : Many thanks again to the brilliant cowgalnina and Elle Morgan-Black for your help with this chapter! You ladies are quite lovely. 3

Also, thank you to my readers who have favorited and followed this story. And thanks to you all for your reviews. You just tickle me pink with your comments and questions. Much more is on the way, so please, keep a weathered eye on that horizon and lemme know what you think! ^_^


	5. Chapter 4

The next few days passed by much quicker than Lucius had thought they would. Days would be spent overseeing Malfoy Industries and afternoons would be spent searching through file after file, looking for his blasted sister. Around five thirty in the evening, Lucius would tap Hermione on the shoulder and they would go to their respective rooms to ready themselves for supper. Because she was spending so much time in the manor, Lucius had decided to empty out the wardrobe in the guest room for her own use.

It was around ten Wednesday evening. Hermione had just left via the Floo, as she did every evening. Fixing himself a finger of firewhiskey, Lucius walked to his armchair and settled himself down, resting his walking stick beside him. It had been a seemingly long afternoon.

The more Lucius spent time with the Mudblood, the more he was enjoying her company. This baffled him. How did she do it?

Another article had been printed by the _Prophet_. Incensed, Hermione had brought it to him, as though he hadn't read the bloody thing. In big, bold letters, the headline had read: **From Death Eater to Blood Traitor!**

He remembered how he had originally reacted to that headline versus how he reacted when she showed it to him. He had never felt more insulted, more disgusted, and had attempted to Floo his solicitor and write a very detailed letter to the editor about what he intended to do to the paper. By the time Hermione arrived at his manor, however, and several firewhiskeys later, he had managed to calm down enough to handle her anger.

" _I'm going to buy that entire bloody newspaper and fire every journalist in it!" she had raged. "I'm going to sue that newspaper for defamation and slander! How dare they! Just because you denounced Voldemort and realized that things needed to change!"_

Her fire was infectious, though slightly misplaced, and he wanted to drink it in deeply. He was certain the jab in the paper was more towards his budding relationship with her rather than his defection from the Dark Lord. He did enjoy the fact that her fiery passion turned into quite the makeout session. They didn't go too far, as he kept a relatively tight rein on his libido. But, damn, if he didn't want to lift her skirt up and just plunge himself into her tight, quivering quim.

Either way, news of their courtship was now public knowledge and he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about it. He had hoped it would remain a secret for a bit longer. At the same time, maybe after the news of it calmed down, he would start seeing more positives come his way. He did receive an owl from Minister Shacklebolt requesting an audience with him on the morrow. Whatever that was about remained to be seen, of course.

Perhaps as an early wedding present, he would buy the _Prophet_ for Hermione and let her do what she willed with it. Eh. Or maybe he would do what she wanted to do and just sue the company. Or perhaps… He let his mind trail off as he came up with more schemes and plans for the devious paper.

Now that everyone knew of his courtship with Hermione Granger, he didn't have to hide in the shadows any longer. He could certainly use this to his advantage. It's what he wanted anyway. They could go to parties, annual Ministry events, and he could worm his way back into the limelight he was so used to being in. He imagined various public events that were now reopened for him and a smirk played on his face.

Yes, having his courtship of the lovely Miss Granger become public certainly had its advantages. And once he proposed, well… Their wedding would be the event of the century.

"Did you read the paper this morning?" Draco asked as he burst into Lucius's study both uninvited and unexpected.

"I did," Lucius replied as he took another sip of his drink. "You're lucky you didn't arrive here thirty minutes earlier."

Draco rolled his eyes as he walked up to the wetbar and fixed himself a glass of brandy. "Why? Were you shagging Granger on the couch or something?"

Lucius raised an eyebrow as his son sat across him in front of the fire. "Don't be so crass, Draco," he chided. "Though, I won't deny that she was here, we certainly were not ' _shagging._ '"

Draco shrugged. "Why not? I mean, you've been courting for a little over a week now. With the press now knowing it, there's no reason to not shag."

"And what makes you think Miss Granger would be interested in such a thing? She does have more class than that," Lucius argued.

"She's a Mudblood, Father. And her two best friends are an orphaned Half-blood and a pauper," he reasoned. "Surely…" He trailed off as the realization of what Lucius was saying. "She's a virgin," he stated, his eyes widening. "Holy fuck, Father!" He started laughing. "Fourteen fucking years with her and neither of those two morons tried fucking her?! Gods! They're more idiotic than I had imagined."

"Watch your language, boy," Lucius growled. "And who said they didn't. She was engaged to Mr. Weasley for a time. The difference is that she actually has class and standards."

Draco snorted. "She was engaged to a Weasley. That doesn't say much about her standards. Although, this courtship is a bit of a step up for her."

"More like a dramatic leap," Lucius agreed.

"Aye, although," Draco said as he sipped from his glass again, "you are older. If she were to agree to allow _me_ to court her…"

Lucius lowered his glass and glared at his son. "You're going to marry Astoria soon and, last I checked, you weren't planning on breaking it off with her."

"If Granger agreed to let me court her, I might. I mean, Astoria is prettier and younger, but -."

"Finish that sentence and I will drag you out of this manor by your ear," Lucius warned. "I know you approached her the other day and I know she turned you down. You haven't a chance in Hell with her."

Draco shrugged nonchalantly. "Eh. You can have the prissy bint for all I care. If she's a virgin, then that means that I can't even shag her."

"Astoria's a virgin, unless you managed to bed her," Lucius pointed out.

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Don't remind me. But I'll be married in two weeks, you won't. Which means that I will be able to hang up my celibacy while you still wear yours like a gilded crown. Think Granger's going to agree to marry you within a week? I read in their breakup that she and Weaslebee had been engaged for nearly a year before they broke up. Even if she accepts your proposal, you're still looking at another few months before you can hang your self-imposed abstinence up."

Lucius sighed and downed the rest of his drink in one go. "Don't remind me," he said, echoing his son's statement as he stood to refill his glass.

"When do you intend to propose to her?" Draco asked as Lucius returned to his seat.

"We are attending a football match next Saturday with Anthony Granger and his wife. I intend to request their blessings while there," Lucius answered. "When they give them, I will send her and a couple of her female friends to a spa day and negotiate another table at Carlyle's."

"What the hell is football?" Draco asked, frowning.

Lucius took a sip of his drink. "It's a little like Quidditch, but not quite. Instead of broomsticks, they run around in a green field. And instead of four balls, there is one."

"Sounds dull. Why are you bothering with it?" the young wizard asked.

Lucius sighed. "Because Hermione's father enjoys the game and I want his blessing. You and Astoria will be attending as well."

"Like hell we will!" Draco declared, balking at the idea.

Lucius raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Hermione and I had lunch with Astoria today. When I told Hermione about the tickets I had managed to acquire, Astoria asked if the two of you could come as well. I couldn't turn her down, so I Flooed my agent and added two more seats."

Whatever blood was in Draco's face drained. "But, but…"

"You and Astoria are going. It's next Saturday, so she and Hermione will be shopping for Muggle clothing tomorrow after work. I went to Gringotts and opened a line of credit for Hermione on my account, so she can purchase what she needs," Lucius informed him, his amusement mounting at Draco's outrage. "I do expect you to be on your best behaviour, too, when we go. With my pending marriage to Hermione and the idea of future children between her and I, I would hate to cut you off due to poor conduct."

"You can't do that," Draco protested indignantly.

"You'd be surprised by what I can do as the head of this family," Lucius commented casually.

(II)(II)

"We're back!" Lucius heard Hermione shout.

Wearing his Acromantulan silk emerald green and silver housecoat, matching pyjama bottoms, and black loafers, he walked into the parlour to see both Hermione and Astoria laden with packages of various sizes. Holding her bags in one hand, the Muggleborn approached Lucius and, standing on tiptoe, she pecked his lips. "Hello, love," she greeted.

He smiled lightly. "Hello to you as well," he returned. "I take it your little adventure was a success?"

"Oh, Mr. Malfoy, we had so much fun!" Astoria gushed. "Muggle London is amazing! We went to this place called Westfield London, which is this thing called a shopping mall. It had so many shops! And the clerks there were so friendly and everything was inside, too! We didn't have to worry about rain or getting our clothes dirty or wet. It was brilliant. And there was this food yard where they had all these vendors selling some amazing food! One bloke even offered free samples!"

Hermione giggled. "Food court," she corrected.

"Oh, right," the young Slytherin said. "I want to go again. We bought clothes for you and Draco at this men's shop, Mr. Malfoy, but I didn't know your sizes, so you might have to adjust."

"Don't worry, we kept in mind your personal tastes," Hermione reassured him with a smirk.

Lucius frowned as he took one of the bags out of her hand. "Don't tell me you bought me a jersey," he said a bit suspiciously.

Hermione laughed. "I don't have a death wish. No, I meant that they were tasteful clothing. I think you'll like what I chose for you."

"Really?" He questioned, fascinated. She actually chose his clothing? That had never happened before.

"Of course. You can't very well go to the match dressed as a wizard. Muggles will think you look funny," she explained. "Besides, I thought it would be nice if we were colour coordinated." Her smile broadened. "You know, as much as I dislike clothes shopping, I have to say, watching and helping Astoria navigate through Muggle London was quite entertaining, to say the least."

That was another first for him. He opened the bag a bit and peeked inside. Realizing which bag he held, Hermione quickly reached out and snatched the bag out of his hand. "Wait! No!" she said.

His eyes widened as he stared at her in shock. No one EVER snatched something out of his hands. Ever..

Her entire face turned red from embarrassment as she handed him a different bag. "I'm sorry," she said contritely. "That was the wrong bag."

Lucius continued to stare at her, at a loss of what to say, and trying desperately to rein in his anger. If Draco had done something like that, he would have whacked the boy with his cane. But then, Draco knew better.

She seemed to know she had done something wrong for she had caught his stare and her face lost its colour just as suddenly as it had gained it. Astoria stayed silent throughout the exchange and silently stepped out of the parlour, not wanting to be in the middle of it.

"I'm really sorry. I just -."

"Do me a favour," he said as calmly as he could muster. "Don't ever grab something out of my hands like that again… Please." He took a deep breath and held up a hand to keep her from speaking. "I am doing my best to remain calm, so please, spare me the apology or explanation. I do not know the customs in which you were raised, however, keep in mind that, at least when you are here, there is a certain decorum that I expect."

"It wasn't something you were meant to see," she said, softly. "I didn't..."

"It doesn't matter," he told her, cutting her off. "That still does not excuse you from snatching it out of my hand like a spoiled child. Even Draco knows better, and he's my son." He looked down at the new bag she had handed him. Glancing back up at her, his face softened. "I do appreciate that you thought of me while you were out shopping today. Believe me when I say that no one has ever done anything like that for me before. When I was younger, my parents usually sent me shopping with my governess, at least until I started Hogwarts."

He could easily see that her demeanor had changed, as though she had lost some form of confidence. Was she holding back tears? If she started crying… No. He couldn't have that. The idea that he had caused her to cry was highly detrimental to his plans. He closed his eyes and sighed. Opening his eyes, he reached out to cup her cheek. He was still angry, but he needed to comfort her before she started to blame herself. "Look," he whispered, stepping closer to her and, placing the bag on the floor, he slid his hand around her waist, drawing her into an embrace. "The last thing I want to do is make you feel guilty or disappointed in yourself. We are both from two different worlds. There are certain protocols that will be different, and that is all right. We can learn from one another and grow together."

He gazed down into her eyes. "I promise I am not angry," he told her. It was a small lie, but if it corrected things, it would be worth it. "I was just startled. Please, try to understand."

"I know," she said, looking up at him. "You're used to things being a certain way, mostly your way." She looked down at his chest and lifted a hand to touch the silk cloth. "I would like to explain, though. I don't normally take things from people like that, I just…" She glanced back up at him. "That bag is full of some intimate things I had bought for Saturday, as well as some nightclothes I had seen. I thought… well, if we decide to have a nightcap Saturday night after the game, I don't know that I would want to take the Floo home. And I would hate to make you leave to bring me home. Astoria and I had spoken of it and she suggested that, if I asked, you would probably let me sleep in that guest room of yours. She did suggest that she and Draco would, no doubt, end up staying the night, so we wouldn't necessarily be completely alone." She tapped his chest. "I really did not mean to snatch it from you."

"You could have just said something," he reasoned.

She chuckled. "Oh, yes, 'Lucius, don't open that bag, I have my undergarments in there.' That would certainly have made you stop."

He looked at her curiously. "I do respect you, my darling. If you wish to keep your knickers a secret from me, for now, I will allow it," he promised her. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes. He smirked.

Her eyes narrowed. "I better not catch you snooping through my drawers," she warned, tapping him with her finger.

He raised an eyebrow and covered her hand with his, effectively stopping the tapping on his chest. "I gave you a promise, and I am a man of my word, my morsel," he purred. "Although, this particular promise will only last for as long as we are courting."

Her eyes widened and he kissed her gently.

(III)(III)

Hermione wasn't surprised by the fact that Lucius had agreed to allowing her to keep the guest room as her own. Nor was she surprised that he had agreed to allow her to sleep in the manor Saturday night. For whatever reason, it was almost as if he wanted her to be there. Maybe he did like her as much as she assumed? She did know that he was courting her and that his end goal was marriage. She felt butterflies in her stomach at the thought. Was she really prepared to marry Lucius Malfoy? Did she want to?

He had almost every quality she looked for in a potential match. He was intelligent, relatively worldly, and a wizard. She had decided long ago that when she married, it would be to a wizard. He was also charming, had a sense of humor, and was very clever. Of course, it didn't hurt that he was tall and handsome, with his chiseled features and long blond hair. He loved to read, too, if sparring with him with Shakespeare was anything to judge by. He knew the written word quite well. They did have chemistry, too. It seemed like every time he kissed her, the entire world halted and she wanted to drown in him.

"Do you think it appropriate, though?" Ginny inquired as she sipped her butterbeer.

Hermione blinked away her thoughts and shrugged. "Astoria and Draco will be there," she said as she stabbed some lettuce. "And it's not like we'll be sleeping in the same room."

"I'm surprised Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass would agree to that so close to the wedding," the ginger said. "Especially given that they are an old family, like the Malfoys."

Hermione ate a bit of her salad as she thought it over. "Well, they will be married in less than two weeks, so I don't know that it would make that much of a difference."

Ginny's eyes widened. "Hermione, are you sure you want to allow Lucius to court you? I mean, a few dinners is great and it's wonderful that he's asked you to help him to find his sister, but… he is a Pureblood. And he comes from an old Wizarding family who have always been steeped in tradition and wealth. Granted, he's brilliant at making his own money, but still…"

"Last week you were more than excited at this prospect," Hermione pointed out accusingly.

"Last week I didn't realize how little you knew about Pureblood society," Ginny said with a sigh. "There aren't really any books to help guide you through it as most is simply taught and passed on from one generation to the next. There are certain rules that you have to follow and, if you aren't careful, you could severely ruin your reputation."

Hermione frowned. "There must be a book somewhere," she commented, not willing to believe there wasn't one.

"If there is, it exists only within the old Pureblood families. Maybe Lucius has a copy," Ginny muttered, sarcastically. "Either way, 'Mione, you might be in over your head. I mean, you saw how he reacted yesterday. Over a silly bag, of all things, too."

The Muggleborn glanced down at her plate. "I can't really blame him, though. I mean, he's not used to things like that happening to him."

"Oh, I don't blame him," Ginny assured her. "In fact, I'm surprised at how calm he was, all things considering. He must really, truly like you. I just don't see it lasting unless you are able to get some lessons on Pureblood society."

Hopeful, Hermione looked up at her friend. "Is there such a thing?"

Ginny shrugged. "Maybe ask Astoria? If anyone knows, she will. Or, hey, you can talk to Lucius about it. Tell him you want to learn more about his culture so you won't make a mistake like that again. Because, I'm telling you now, Hermione, he may be willing to go to a football game this weekend to impress your parents, but I wouldn't count on that becoming a regular thing. The man is fifty years old. He's not just going to change overnight. The fact that he's changed at all is astonishing," she said, leaning back in her seat.

"It is interesting that he chose me. I've no doubt he could have any woman he wants, and yet…"

"What would be the advantage?" Ginny asked, causing Hermione to gaze at her in surprise. "Lucius Malfoy is an opportunist, after all. As such, he has a very specific reason for choosing _you_ to be the witch he wants to spend all of his time with. You're beautiful, young, and smart. You were, and still are, the brightest witch of your age, and of _the_ Age. You're powerful, too, which is rare, especially among Muggleborns. You helped Harry fight Voldemort, and defeat him, and just look at all you've done since you've joined the Ministry. Plus, if what you say is true about your chemistry, which I wager it is, it's almost as if you're the perfect match for him. I wouldn't be surprised if he was planning on using this game as a means to curry favor from your dad and gain his blessing."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Do you think he will propose to me Saturday?"

"If not Saturday, then soon," Ginny guessed. "Though, again, I will caution you in jumping into a marriage with him right away. You desperately need some guidance on Pureblood society before you tie the knot. My dad was never a part of the society and my mum left it as soon as she married my dad. Blood traitors, they were called, but they didn't care."

"Would Lucius even be welcomed into Pureblood society by marrying me?" Hermione questioned. "I'm a Mudblood, which is, pretty much, the epitome of everything they hate. Even worse, I'm an intelligent Mudblood who had literally spat in the face of all their stereotypical conspiracy theories. You saw the _Daily Prophet_ headlines."

Ginny tilted her head. "Do you honestly believe Lucius is going to let anyone get away with calling him a blood traitor? The two of you can have ten children and he could open up an orphanage for Muggles and people will still cower when he walks into a room. I would bet my last Knut that, even now, he is informing his solicitors that he wants to have every person responsible for that article fired. And they'll do it, too, make no mistake," she said as she took another sip of her drink.

A thousand things were running through Hermione's head in that moment. Why was he so deadset for this courtship? Was he genuinely attracted to her? Every one of her friends always made it a point to tell her how beautiful she was, but she didn't really see it, so she didn't see how Lucius saw it. If he saw it. She was intelligent and young, though. What she lacked in beauty, she made up for in brains. And she could admit that she was powerful. Perhaps not as powerful as some in the Wizarding community, though. She had even beaten Lucius a time or two, though she almost always had help, particularly when the Order showed up.

Maybe she should talk to Lucius about it more. If things were going in the direction she suspected, she knew she would need to know about Pureblood society. She knew, though, that Lucius liked her regardless of her knowledge of the society. She just hoped Lucius was willing to give her what she needed.

(IV)(IV)

"When Miss Granger arrives, escort her to the library," Lucius told the little house elf as he began walking in that direction.

The house elf nodded vigorously. "Yes, Master Lucius," he answered and vanished from the spot.

Lucius could not stop thinking about the incident that had occurred yesterday. Though he had sent her flowers, he still felt as if more could be done to prevent future mishaps. Then, he had an epiphany. Why not just teach her how to live in high class society? He knew his family kept some books on the subject. While it wasn't the best way to learn, it was, at least, a start. He also knew there were some things about his world that she would not agree with, and that was fine. He didn't really agree with all of it himself. Not anymore.

He had spent the morning igniting several Howlers, in regards to his courtship with the aforementioned Muggleborn, before contacting his solicitors to deal with the problem. It took them the entirety of the morning to flush out every person responsible for writing that damned article. With the right price, Lucius made sure to have each person on a permanent leave-of-absence without any compensation. He also made sure that the actual author was barred from ever working in journalism again. A small smirk played on his lips as he thought over it and he could not wait to inform Hermione of the good news. He knew the girl had had past dealings with this particular journalist that hardly ever ended well. She'd be pleased, he was certain.

His trip to the Ministry, and his subsequent meeting with Shacklebolt, ended up going much smoother than he expected. He had known Shacklebolt had been a part of the Order along with Hermione, and therefore, was not surprised when the man warned him against hurting her or using her. " _If your intent with her is nefarious, Malfoy, you will have more than just me to contend with, I assure you," the man had informed him_. Lucius assured him, several times over, that wasn't the case. He genuinely liked the girl, enjoyed her company, and believed they would make a good match.

A few more days and he could ask Anthony for his blessing. Then, Lucius would propose to the girl a few days later. He knew her parents wouldn't keep anything a secret from her. Maybe he should propose later that night? It would keep them from spoiling his wishes.

Tomorrow he would visit his vault and search for the perfect ring for her. Or maybe he'd just buy her a new one? He would have all the 'morrow to think on it and decide.

(V)(V)

"Hello?"

Lucius looked up for a moment from the tome he was perusing. He watched and waited for Hermione to find him, knowing she would. He allowed his eyes to fall back to the text. When she called out again, "Lucius? Are you in here?" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Over here, darling," he said, just loud enough for her to hear him.

He heard her approach him, but did not look up. He did look up, however, when she pushed his hair back to the side and kissed his cheek. "Hello, my sweet morsel," he greeted.

She smiled lovingly. "Did you have a good day?" she asked as she sat in a chair beside him.

"I did," he told her as he sat back in his chair. Looking at her, a small smile played on his lips. That had been happening a lot lately, something else he was unused to. "You look beautiful today."

Indeed, she did, too. Her hair was as wild as ever, but he noticed it had a headband in it to keep it out of her face. She wore a light pink blouse, too. No doubt she also wore jeans and trainers as well. Perhaps this education will be beneficial and convince her to wear more appropriate attire.

"Thank you," she replied with a blush. "You look rather handsome yourself."

He raised an eyebrow. "I always look handsome."

She laughed. "The arrogance of a Malfoy knows no bounds, does it?" she said, merrily.

"I merely speak the truth," he commented. Deciding to change the subject before she continued to stroke his ego - not that he would mind that happening - he stood and held out his hand to her. "Come here."

Ever curious, she accepted his hand and allowed him to pull her back up. He took a step back and let his eyes fall over her figure. "I will give the Muggles this much: You do look sexy in jeans," he said, causing her to giggle. The shorts she wore were quite… short and ended gave him a perfect view of her long, lightly caramel coloured legs. He pulled her against him. "I am pleased to see that you are no longer angry with me over yesterday."

She gazed up at him. "And I, you," she whispered. She lifted her arms and draped them over his shoulders.

Bending down a little, he simultaneously captured her mouth with his and wrapped his arms around her waist. Setting her upon the table, he slipped between her legs and pulled her closer to him. He loved how her hands were buried in his hair and how her body molded into his. His erection pressed against her core as his lips left hers and descended to her neck.

"I'm on the edge of the table," she whispered breathlessly.

He groaned in pleasure. "Yes, you are," he sighed. Holding her tight, his body began moving against hers, his cock hitting her core in a repetitious fashion to mimic sex. God, he wanted her so badly.

He lifted her blouse and slipped a hand underneath. He would never forget this blouse as it was the same one she wore the day they met in the garden. The way it had clung to her and revealed her perfect breasts to him made him moan in memory. He rubbed her nipple with his thumb, earning a moan from her as well.

Halting his humping and breaking the kiss, he met her lust filled eyes. "Do you trust me?" he asked.

"Yes," she whispered, leaning towards him in an attempt to kiss him again.

He gave her a small smile as he took note of her drunken response. He dipped his head so he could whisper into her ear, "Take your blouse off."

She drew back and looked at him in confusion. Seeing her apprehension, he cupped her jaw. "I want to see them. To taste them."

"I…"

"Don't worry," he reassured her. "Your virtue will remain intact."

He was making a gamble, hoping her need for him was as strong as his for her. He remained firmly planted between her legs, pressing - but not moving - his cock against her core.

"You first," she said, looking nervous.

Her bold statement made his smile widen. Releasing his hands from her waist, he began unbuttoning his own shirt. He had taken his robes off long ago during his search for the books he wanted. He pulled his shirt out of his waistcoat and pulled it off.

She pulled away from him and gazed down, running a hand along his pectorals as she bit her bottom lip. He let the shirt fall to the floor as she continued to investigate his torso. As her hand drifted further down, his eyes became more hooded. Perhaps he should have done this sooner? "Darling?"

Startled, she looked back up at him and met his eyes. "Sorry," she said, blushing. "Only, I've never seen a man built quite like… this…" Her voice faded off as her eyes wandered down again at the tight muscle. Sure, she had seen Harry and Ron without their shirts before, but they didn't look nearly as… She licked her suddenly dry lips.

He smirked. "Your turn," he teased.

She blanched and he kissed her. "It's ok," he assured her. "It's just us."

She still seems apprehensive and he sighed. With a deep breath, she informed him, "I'm not wearing a bra."

He raised an eyebrow. "Neither am I," he pointed out as he flexed his pecs.

"Was that a joke?" she asked, giggling a little.

He cupped her cheek and pushed back her hair. "Will you allow me to see?" he replied instead of answering. "Your breasts feel so wonderful in my hands that I long to have them bare before me. To touch and to taste them..."

She reached up and kissed him again and he deepened the kiss hungrily. It had been many years since he had been so intimate with a witch he felt any sort of loyalty to, not that he would admit to being loyal to Narcissa, aside from their first fifteen years. He dropped his hands back to her waist and, as he did so, she pulled at her blouse. Using both hands to lift it up, she broke their kiss long enough to pull it over her head. He lifted his hands to help her, tossing the shirt carelessly to the side as he covered her mouth with his again.

This was a new sensation for her and a longed one for him. As her breasts pressed against his bare chest, he began moving his pelvis again, grinding his clothed cock against her equally clothed core.

He didn't know how much longer he could wait to have her, to make her his. As he trailed kisses along her neck, he forgot about their individual reputations and his plan. He was still very aware, however, of her virtue, but at the moment, that didn't really matter much.

He sucked her nipple into his mouth and silently thanked the heavens. He gently kneaded the other nipple between his fingers as he sucked on her hard, flicking the tip with his tongue.

Hermione moaned as she arched her back. Her hands buried themselves in his hair as Lucius held her up with one arm around her back. "Oh, God, Lucius," she groaned.

He grunted as he moved against her and he released her nipple to kiss her lips. "I want you," he breathed over her lips. "You're so fucking sexy."

"I want you, too," she whispered, pulling at his hair and kissing his jaw.

He paused and looked down at her for a moment. He pushed her hair out of her face. When had the room become so hot and they so sweaty? "Soon, my morsel," he promised her. "Very soon."

She dropped her gaze to his chest. "I don't know what I'm doing, Lucius," she admitted to his chest.

"Shall I stop?" he asked huskily as he paused.

She shook her head. "No," she whispered.

"It's ok, darling," he purred as he continued to move against her. "You're safe. Right now, we are just feeling… just feeling…" He closed his eyes as he felt the ball of fire burning inside him, ready to explode. Holding her tight, he felt his release and silently thanked the gods he was wearing trousers. He knew she wasn't ready for the heat and stickiness of his seed yet.

She held him and paused when he stilled. He brushed his lips over hers again, kissing her. "What if I mess up again?" she asked. "Like I did with the bag."

He glanced at the book he had been reading before turning his attention back to her. "I've been thinking about that little mishap yesterday with the bag of undergarments. I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of searching for some books I thought you might like to read. Granted, these books do not cover everything a witch of high class is taught, it does give you the general idea of what can be expected."

She gave him a suspicious look. "Did you talk to Ginny?" she questioned.

He frowned. "Who?"

"Ginny. Harry's wife?"

His frown deepened. "No," he replied, "I have not had the pleasure of speaking with Mrs. Potter outside of that one day. Judging by your question, however, perhaps I should."

"Today at lunch, she suggested I should talk to you about Pureblood society. She said that if we continue this courtship, that it will be important that I have, at least, some sort of education and understanding of the world you were raised in," she explained. "That there weren't any books on the subject and that I needed to garner the information directly."

"Indeed. Smart girl," he said as he ran a hand down her arm. Neither had donned their shirts, not that they really needed to. He rather liked seeing Hermione like this, and he couldn't help but notice how intrigued by his chest she was. "There aren't many books about high society, but there are a few. When I was a lad, and when Draco was a lad as well, we were taught by a governess. The books we learned from were more… instructional guides in how to conduct oneself." He reached around her and grabbed one of the books on the table, and froze. God, her breasts pressing against him felt good. He still had an erection and had to close his eyes for a moment to calm himself down. Her hands went immediately to his back and he purred. Soon, Lucius. Very soon.

With great difficulty, he straightened up, book in hand, and brought it between them. "This was one of my books," he told her.

She sighed as she touched the book in his hands. "Why do I need this? I'm courting you, not Pureblood society," she grumbled.

He raised an eyebrow. "It was my understanding that you enjoyed learning, but if you don't want it, that's fine as well," he said as he pulled the book away from her.

She quickly grabbed the book, though she did not take it from him. "No!" she said quickly. Then she gave him a nervous smile. "I mean, no, I do want to learn. I just don't understand why I _have_ to learn."

"If we are to see this courtship through, you do realize this means we will marry, correct? As such, there will be many times when I will have business associates join us for supper and we will go to events and parties hosted by said associates and more. I would expect my wife to conduct herself with perfect poise and mannerisms befitting her station," he explained. "You aren't a mistress, tramp, trollop, or a whore. What happens in private, such as snatching a bag of garments out of my hands at home, will not amass the same reaction it did yesterday. It will be worse, and even more people will be there to judge you. They won't be pleasant in their judgement of you either."

"Are you saying Astoria…"

"No, never," he assured her. "Astoria adores you and realizes that you may lack in certain mannerisms, due to lack of said education."

He released the book, letting her take it fully. "I will speak with Astoria and see if she would be amiable in your quest for knowledge, though I doubt she will see an issue with it."

He watched as she caressed the book cover longingly. Frowning, she looked up at him. "What about Helen? We're supposed to be searching for her," she reminded him.

Blast. He cupped her cheek. "We can still do so," he said. He looked forlornly around the library and sighed. "I am beginning to think she may be lost to me forever, though that might be for the best."

"Oh, don't say that. I'm sure we will find her. You two will be reunited and it will be fantastic!" she told him. He saw something flash in her eyes, and she smiled broadly. "In fact, I've an idea. I think I know how we can find her."

She slipped off the table, grazing his cock in the process and causing him to groan, and began to leave the library. Seeing her abandoned blouse on the floor, he quickly picked it up and followed her, beating her to the door and moving to block her. "You may want this before you leave," he suggested, showing her the garment.

She blushed. "Oh my!" she gasped as she took the blouse and slipped it back on.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Many thanks again to my lovely betas, cowgalnina and Elle Morgan-Black. You ladies are amazing! Also, many thanks to those who favorite, follow, and comment on this story.

So much more to come!


	6. Chapter 5

The next day found Hermione frowning as she read the last page of the book Lucius had loaned her. This? _This_ is what they taught young Pureblood wizards and witches?

She sat back in her chair and took a sip of her coffee. That couldn't be all there was to it. There simply had to be more. This was child's play at best! And it was near insulting for Lucius to think she needed such lessons. One mistake! Just one mistake, and he gave her a mediocre book about… about _manners_!

She stared down at the book in disgust. As she heard someone knock on her door, she placed the book on the small table beside her chair and stood. Giving the book a final offended look, she scoffed and left her sitting room to answer the door.

She was surprised by who was on the other side. "Astoria?"

"Hello," the young witch greeted cheerfully. "May I come in?"

"Yes, of course," Hermione stated as she opened the door wider and stepped to the side.

As Astoria walked inside, she took off her gloves and gazed about the apartment. "Oh, what a lovely home you have, Hermione!" she commented. "So petite and quaint."

Hermione paused and fought a frown. "Thank you," she said, smiling tightly. "You can hang your cloak up in here, if you like," the older witch suggested as she opened a closet by the door.

Hermione watched as Astoria took off her cloak and, sticking her gloves in an inner pocket, hung it up. Seeing the girl in her home was startling for the Muggleborn, but perhaps Astoria could clear up some of the things she read and thought.

"I'll put the kettle on," Hermione said, her brow crinkling in suspicion. "Please, make yourself at home."

Astoria smiled kindly at her. "Thank you," she said as she continued into the flat and gazed at the various pictures on the wall and bookshelves.

Hermione stepped into her kitchen and, filling up a kettle, placed it on the stove and turned it on. "I suppose after growing up in a manor, this place must seem rather small to you," she said, a little sympathetic, as she looked at the young witch. "Living alone doesn't require much room but this is one of the larger flats in London."

Astoria hummed. "Are these your parents?" She asked as she came upon a picture of Hermione and two older people in the Alps.

"Yes," she replied. "That was our last skiing trip."

"They look like such lovely Muggles," the girl complimented, her smile brightening. "I cannot wait to meet them."

Hermione dumped some biscuits onto a tray. "Thank you. They are lovely people."

"What do they do for a living, if I may ask?"

"They're dentists," Hermione answered bluntly. At Astoria's confused glance, the Muggleborn elaborated, "They take care of people's teeth."

Hermione saw Astoria run her tongue over her own teeth and had to bite back a smile. "Do Muggles not have… wait," she stopped herself mid-question. Sighing, she said, "Forgive me, I forget sometimes that Muggles don't have the convenience of magic."

"Well, they do have things like toothbrushes and toothpaste," Hermione assured her. "But that doesn't always clean teeth completely and there is still the chance of cavities and yellowing of the teeth. Also, sometimes, a person's teeth don't grow in correctly and the Muggle may decide to correct them."

Astoria frowned. "Do they have to get surgery?" She asked.

"Sometimes," Hermione said. She frowned. "Forgive me, but I don't think you came here to talk about my parents or dentistry."

Astoria shook her head. "Mr. Malfoy told me that you were wanting to learn more about Pureblood society. I hope you don't think me too forward, but he had mentioned the books he had given you and, I must say, I felt the need to come and try to help."

Hermione glanced at the chair she had been sitting in and the offending book. "That book is all about manners and, well, I'm not a caveman. My parents did teach me how to be polite."

Astoria nodded. "There is more to Pureblood society than manners," she admitted.

"Yes, I know. Would you be willing to help me?" Hermione asked.

"Of course. If you like, we can start today," she suggested.

"Actually, that sounds like a grand idea, because I am completely baffled," Hermione agreed as she sat down.

(II)(II)

Lucius relaxed in his armchair in his study. He had a glass of brandy in one hand and a lit cigar in the other. It wasn't often he was able to thoroughly enjoy some quiet time anymore, especially since he had started pursuing Hermione Granger.

He had just finished reading yet another book about football and felt as though he understood the game far more than he should have. The sport was extremely dull, in his mind, though he found himself particularly interested in Manchester United, which was the team they were going to see play next Saturday. He purchased a subscription to the local Muggle newspaper so he could keep up with the scores and players, and to impress Anthony with his newfound knowledge. Though they had lost all the games they played this month so far, Lucius was confident, given their overall season streak, that they would pick it all back up again. The team was one of the top in the nation, which boosted his confidence when he purchased the tickets to their upcoming game against Newcastle United.

It was certainly panning out to be an interesting experience. He closed his eyes and bit back his internal retort. That he was even thinking about a Muggle sport astounded him. He was so much better than this.

Was he, though? He was, currently, at the bottom of the totem pole, despite the billions of Galleons and highly successful business dealings he had had. Now, with the whole world knowing that he was courting the beautiful, young, and talented Miss Granger… well, he was still on the bottom, but he could see a possible route back to the top.

He had received so many Howlers thanks to that blasted article in the _Prophet_. He didn't blame the general public, of course. He just wished people would learn to mind their own business.

He sat up briefly so he could set his glass and cigar on the table beside him. He had to admit that, despite the current backlash from the public, he had chosen correctly when he decided to pursue Hermione. He grinned to himself as he sat back and allowed thoughts of her to flow through his mind.

She was so beautiful and sexy, with her petite body and wild hair. He loved the way she felt when she was pressed up against him. The taste and touch of her breasts had him licking his lips as a hand fell to the zipper on his trousers. Her response to his naked torso had him nearly creaming with need and he felt like a schoolboy again.

His tongue touched his canine as he began to stroke his cock. His eyes drooped as he imagined Hermione on her knees before him, taking his cock in her small hands and giving it the attention it so desperately desired and deserved. God how he wanted her beneath him! To have her in his bed, screaming his name as he fucked her into the mattress. To have her mouth engulf his cock as he forced the entire length down her throat. He came hard, spilling his seed over his trousers and onto the carpet.

He grimaced as he tucked his member back into his trousers. Grabbing his wand, he Scourgified his clothes and the carpet, though he knew the elves would give it a more thorough cleaning when he departed.

He knew Hermione was due to come to the manor shortly. Smirking to himself, he picked up his house robe, but paused mid-action. A thought crossed his mind and he unbuttoned his shirt. Taking it off, he draped it over the arm of his chair, knowing the elves would pick it up when he left. He put his house robe on and tied the silk belt around his waist. If he played his cards right, perhaps one of his fantasies would come true this evening. If he took their snogging "sessions" up a notch… she was always game for more education, after all. He wondered just how far he could push her before he blurred the lines too much of what was appropriate and what wasn't for courting. Granted, he had already crossed that line when he had touched her breasts and tasted her lips with his tongue, but just how far could he go before she suspected foul play?

(III)(III)

He had abandoned his search for his sister in lieu of watching as Hermione sifted through file after file. She looked so delectable as she stood there, her head bent slightly and her hair pulled back in a messy bun. He wanted to reach out and pull the elastic out of her hair and watch her hair fall.

He felt himself harden just at the prospect. He knew she found him attractive and she loved the feel of his bare chest.

Walking up behind her, he rested his hands on her waist and dipped his head so his lips brushed her neck. She froze for a moment. As he pressed against her, she seemed to melt into him. "You smell so good," he purred.

"We're supposed to be finding your sister," she sighed.

Lifting his head, he turned her around in his arms and looked down at her. "It's been over a week now," he pointed out. "I think my sister can wait another day. I really want to kiss you and do devious things with you."

"Lucius," she whispered as he kissed her lips.

He trailed kisses down her jaw to her neck, suckling on the tender skin there. Pushing her against the file cabinets, he grabbed her legs and, wrapping them around his waist, he picked her up. His cock strained against his zipper as he rubbed it against her core. He groaned. "I want you so bad," he growled against her lips.

"Lucius," she begged, returning his kisses and burying her hands in his hair. "Please…"

The sound of the door banging open startled the couple and, while he was still holding her, they looked to see who had entered. "Am I interrupting something?" Draco asked, smirking.

Hermione gasped and, dropping her legs, she scrambled to slip out of Lucius's grasp and straighten her clothing. Lucius's eyes narrowed and, staring irritably at the cabinet above Hermione's head, he took a deep breath. "Is there a reason for your interruption?"

Draco's smirk broadened as he plopped into one of the armchairs and draped his legs over one of the arms. "Astoria told me that she," he pointed at Hermione as his smirk turned devilish, "is taking lessons in how to conduct herself like a proper lady. If I remember my lessons right, she should always be in the company of an escort, particularly when she's meeting with the man who is courting her."

Hermione turned her attention back to the filing cabinet. "Astoria is always here with you and she never has an escort," she commented offhandedly.

"My father is constantly walking these halls, Granger, and when Astoria is here, he is always within hearing. I'm merely doing my part as a dutiful son," he offered with a shrug.

"How kind of you," she praised him dully.

Draco snorted and looked at her in astonishment. "Was that sarcasm? Sweet Salazar, Father, I do think you're starting to rub off on her," he joked.

Lucius straightened his house robe and, looking at Hermione, he sighed. "I don't know that we are going to find any information on her here," he admitted. "Wherever my father had stashed her paperwork, he covered it well."

"Who are we talking about?" Draco asked.

Hermione glanced at Lucius. "Does he know?"

Lucius shrugged. "As I had said before, no one had ever really spoken of her. With the Dark Lord here, there was little point," he explained.

The witch frowned. "Well, there's no point in keeping her a secret now, is there? Draco has a right to know."

"We don't even know where she is," Lucius pointed out.

"And maybe Draco will be interested enough to help us look," Hermione argued.

Draco rolled his eyes. "First you start talking about someone without telling me who, and now you're talking about me as though I'm not here," he groused.

"We're looking for your aunt," Lucius stated, glaring at his son.

Draco wrinkled his nose. "She died, remember? What do you want with her anyway?" he began, then he snapped his fingers. "Hang on. You're not looking for Andromeda, are you? Mother would be furious if you managed to make contact before she had."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "And what makes you think I have any interest in your mother's siblings?"

"Well, you said -."

"Don't be so thick, Draco," Hermione chided. "We're talking about Helen Malfoy, your father's sister."

Draco froze, his mouth agape and his finger pointed at his father. Snapping his mouth shut, he dropped his hand and sat up in the chair. "You never told me you had a sister," he said accusingly, as he looked at his father.

"She's a Squib," Lucius said, his eyes flashing as he watched his son's reaction.

"Malfoys don't have Squibs," the boy argued, his frown deepening.

"We don't record Squibs onto the family tree," Lucius asquienced, "but that doesn't mean we don't, unfortunately, give them life, or give birth to them occasionally."

Lucius watched as realization dawned on Draco's face. Groaning, Draco fell back into the chair and looked up at the ceiling. "So, I have one aunt who's a blood traitor and another who's a Squib," he bemoaned. He looked at Lucius with something akin to annoyance in his eyes. "And a father who's turned blood traitor as well. I honestly don't know which is worse." He looked at Hermione, who stared at him in shock. "Enlighten me, Granger: Why are we looking for this woman again?"

Hermione set her jaw and Lucius could see she was clenching and unclenching her fists. "You should consider yourself lucky, Draco," she spat. "And for your information, we're looking for her because your father wants to. Do you know how many people will do anything to have even a quarter of what you do?"

"Do I care?" Draco countered.

"You will watch your words, son," Lucius said as calmly as he could muster, though even he heard the cynicism in his own voice. "Why I am looking for her matters little. Did you not just say that your mother is currently trying to reconnect with Andromeda? With the Dark Lord gone, I see no reason why I shouldn't seek out my sister."

"Maybe because she's a Squib?" Draco suggested with a shrug.

Hermione, angry, stood and straightened her clothing. "Well, Lucius, I do believe that, if you don't think we'll find anything in here, I shall proceed to the library. You said there might be something written in one of the texts, correct?" she asked, looking at the older Pureblood and purposefully ignoring his son.

He sighed. "There may be, though something tells me there isn't. My father was more meticulous than I had expected."

The Muggleborn tapped her bottom lip. "Isn't there a portrait of him somewhere? And, if so, do you think he would know something?"

Lucius's eyes widened. He hadn't thought of that, honestly. He frowned, though. "My father hated Muggleborns. What makes you think a portrait of him would tell you anything?"

"He doesn't have to speak to me," she assured him. "I'm not his son. But I cannot imagine that he wouldn't speak to you."

"I doubt he will tell me what it is I wish to know," Lucius commented.

"It doesn't hurt to try. And he may let something slip that will give us a clue," she pressed. She looked at her wristwatch and bit her lower lip. "I promised Harry and Ginny I would dine with them this evening. We're having a celebration at the Burrow for their wedding anniversary."

Lucius approached her and, pulling her into an embrace, touched her cheek. "I will see what my father's portrait tells me and we'll speak of it tomorrow, yes?"

She grinned softly as she looked up at him. "Of course," she affirmed as she reached up and pecked his lips.

Tightening his hold on her, Lucius dipped his head and kissed her again, deeper. His hand slipped into her hair as he cradled her head. "I look forward to the morrow, then, darling," he whispered against her lips.

"With bated breath," she returned as he released her.

She walked to the fireplace and, with a helping of Floo Powder, was gone.

Lucius stared at the fireplace as Draco pretended to gag vomit. "That was something I never expected to see," the boy complained. "God, Father, you're really laying it on thick, aren't you? No wonder she thinks you're in love with her."

Lucius sneered as he turned his attention to his son. "If this is to work, she needs to think that, doesn't she?"

Draco shrugged. "So, Helen Malfoy the Squib? What the bloody hell is _that_ about?"

Lucius flicked his wand at the filing cabinets and closed them. "It is an unfortunate truth, my son," he admitted. "My mother, before her death, did give birth to a little girl who turned out to be a Squib. After the infraction, my father never touched my mother again."

"What really happened to the Squib?" Draco asked.

"Once she came of age, my father sent her to a prestigious boarding school and struck her from the family tree," Lucius explained as he sat in the opposite chair from Draco. "He also bought her a home in Surrey and gave her a bank account with ample enough money to see her through. After that, I do not know. I heard she married, but never dared to ask beyond that. Never cared."

"Why are you seeking her out now, though?"

"Because it was the only thing I could think of to get me closer to Miss Granger," Lucius confessed. "At the time, I merely wanted to become intimate with her, however, I see the benefits of marriage, so I convinced her, somehow, that seeing Helen again is a desperate desire of my heart."

"And she bought it?" Draco asked in disbelief.

Lucius shrugged. "She is helping me, though I do believe our search will be in vain."

"What makes you say that?"

"I was there when Father threw Helen's files into the fireplace," Lucius admitted.

A wicked grin curled up Draco's lips.

(IV)(IV)

Smiles were plastered on the faces of those within the Burrow. Hermione giggled at something little James had said as Ginny rolled her eyes. "He's been like this all week," the ginger-haired girl complained, though her smile belied her annoyance.

"He's going to be quite the little heartbreaker when he gets older," Hermione predicted.

"Speaking of heartbreakers," Harry commented as he sat down at the table with Ron and George. "I read in the _Prophet_ that Lucius Malfoy was courting you? What's that about?"

Hermione sighed as she sat back in her chair. "You know that park in London? The one someone had created for the Wizarding community?" she asked. "Well, Lucius is the one who had built it and donated it to the Ministry for public use."

"So? What's that gotta do with him courting you?" Ron asked. "He's still a right git. Not to mention a former Death Eater and way too old for you."

"I don't recall asking for your permission on who I date, Ronald," Hermione pointed out as she buttered some toast. "We met at that garden about a week or so ago and ended up reciting Shakespeare to one another. He really has changed…"

"Men like Malfoy don't change," Arthur warned as he sat at the head of the table. He saw her about to protest and held up a hand to stop her. "If he's taken a shine to you, that could mean one of several things and none of them any good."

"He met my parents," Hermione told them. "And we're all going to a football match this coming Saturday."

"Really? Which one?" Harry asked curiously.

Hermione puffed out her chest and beamed. "Manchester United versus Newcastle," she stated proudly. "Lucius managed to gain us some incredible seats."

"Well, sure, he did. Man's bloody rich, isn't he?" Ron commented. "But why's he suddenly interested in a Muggle sport?"

"Probably because he knows Hermione's parents are interested in it," George guessed with a shrug.

"What's he want with you anyway?" Ron pressed.

"She's young, beautiful, and Muggleborn," George pointed out, counting off her qualities with his fingers. "She's also brave, smart, and a war hero. I can imagine quite a few reasons why he would want her."

"He hates Muggles, though," Harry argued.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "He's also trying to change, to be a better person. While I agree that she should be cautious, I can't imagine that his aims are nefarious."

Hermione frowned and stared at her drink, suddenly ill at ease. "He told me he wants to marry me," she muttered in a low voice.

This caught everyone's attention and they stared at her in awe. Finally, in what seemed like forever, Ron asked, "Are you mad?"

Hermione looked up and met his eyes. Her expression hardened. "Why do you think he's courting me? Is it really that far-fetched that anyone would want to marry me?"

"Of course not," Ron assured her. "But not Malfoy! Especially Lucius Malfoy. Blimey, Hermione! You'd have to be barking to even consider it."

"Why? What's so wrong about it?" the witch asked, annoyed. "We've been spending almost every day together and, the more I learn of him, the more I see how much we have in common."

"What do you have in common, exactly?" Ron challenged, angrily. "So you both like some books. He's twenty-five years older than you, Hermione. He has a child that is your age, AND he was a Death Eater. He used to hunt and torture people like you for sport and pleasure. Do you know how many anti-Muggleborn laws and shit he pushed to have passed?"

"That was in the past. He's changed!" she spat back.

"Not that much," Ron told her.

"Hermione -," Harry began.

"He freed his house elves, donated money to the causes I have been championing for years now," the young woman argued. "He may have been a Death Eater, and he may have done some horrible things, but this last war really did a number on him. He saw what Voldemort truly was and decided he didn't want any part of it. But by then, it was too late. Had he moved against Voldemort, his entire family would have died. He was in the same position, or nearly so, as Draco was."

"Except, that situation was done by Lucius," Harry pointed out. "He did the whole thing to himself."

Hermione sighed. "People make mistakes," she said. "And, yes, sometimes really big ones, but that doesn't mean they can't see the error of their ways and change."

"What did he do to convince you of this?" Arthur asked.

She frowned, but it was Ginny who spoke, "She already said that, Dad. It may not be much right now, but we have to give him a chance, don't we?"

"You're defending him?" Harry asked, looking at his wife accusingly. "Why?"

"Because he defected," she stated. "He defected and, what Hermione said, he's trying. He's not perfect. None of us are. But, if we judge him based on the past, rather than who he is now, how does that make us any better than Voldemort and his followers? Lucius was born to wealth and privilege. He was taught to hate Muggles and Muggleborns. He was raised on fear of 'the other'. And yet, he is defying everything he once valued for the love of a girl he doesn't deserve. Doesn't that say something?"

"Fairy tales usually have a pretty gruesome twist to them," Harry told her. He looked at Hermione. "I cannot condone this. I'm sorry, Hermione."

"You defended him at his trial," Hermione said, pointing at him accusingly. "You told the Wizengamot that he had been a prisoner in his own home, that he hadn't harmed us, or done anything to us." She stood, defiant, from her chair. "I can see that I am not welcomed here. Congratulations on your anniversary, Harry. Ginny. I will see myself out."

With that, Hermione turned on her heel and began walking to the door. Harry and Ron both followed her. "Hermione," Harry called to her, but she ignored him.

Ron caught up to her and grabbed her arm. "Hermione, listen!"

The Muggleborn glared at him. "Let me go, Ronald," she hissed.

"No, just listen," he pleaded. "Look, you can't just spring this sort of thing up on us and not expect us to respond negatively."

"And why not?" she demanded. "I didn't ask for anyone's permission. Harry asked about the _Prophet_ and I clarified. That did not require any sort of argument, nor did I come here to fight."

"And we aren't trying to fight," Harry pointed out. "We're just trying to understand…"

"Then ask!" she shouted. "Don't just tell me that you don't condone it! Ask me, let me answer, and leave it at that. You don't control my life. You have your life. You have a wife, a son, plus another on the way. The least you can do is allow me that same pleasure."

"You don't want a family!" Ron said.

She yanked her arm out of Ron's grip. "No. I said I didn't want a family right away. I never said that I wouldn't want one eventually. I also said I didn't want a house full of children, not that I didn't want _any_ children."

"And you think a fifty year old man will be able to provide you with that? He's going to be old or gone by the time your children reach school age," Ron commented.

"You forget that wizards can live a long time," Hermione argued. "Dumbledore was a hundred and fifty when he died, and that was due to that cursed ring." She paused for a moment and threw her hands up in the air. "Why am I justifying any of this to you? It's my life, my relationship, not yours!"

Molly entered the foyer at that moment. "Hermione, dear. You said Lucius was courting you, correct? Who is your chaperone?"

"Chaperone?" Hermione echoed, looking at the matronly woman.

Molly pressed her lips together. "As a young, unmarried witch, it is only proper that you have a chaperone during your encounters with him," she stated. "Perhaps, if you did, no one would question the nature of this courtship."

"Draco has been at the Manor during many of our encounters, and he was there today," Hermione pointed out.

Molly raised an eyebrow. "Forgive me, my dear, but one can hardly count the man's own son as a chaperone. If you like, I will gladly volunteer for the task. In fact, I insist."

"I don't know…" Hermione trailed off, thinking about the books Astoria had given her.

"Sweetheart, I don't know if I've ever told you this, but I was a Prewitt before I became a Weasley," Molly explained. "As such, I know the proper protocols of the upper class. I can help you, and even teach you a few things of what to expect."

Hermione looked at the woman. "You'd do that?"

Molly touched her cheek and patted her gently. "I may not entirely agree with it, but I do see how passionate you are. Marriage into the Malfoy family can have its privileges and benefits, too, if done correctly. If you're truly serious, you will need all the help you can get."

Hermione smiled in relief. "Thank you, Molly," she said, hugging the older witch.

The woman returned her hug. "Don't thank me entirely, yet," she said. "Something tells me that Lucius won't appreciate my helping you, but as both of your parents are Muggles, I don't see a respectable alternative."

"Molly, you can't seriously think of agreeing to this?" Arthur asked as he, too, entered the room.

"Hermione is going to allow Lucius to court her whether we want it or not," Molly stated. "It's best we do this the right way where she can keep her good name."

"Where do we start?" Hermione asked, ignoring the wizards and looking at Molly.

(V)(V)

Lucius rarely visited the hall of his forefathers. He already knew all of the stories and schemes they told, and therefore, simply did not feel the need to return. However, he used to bring Draco there when he was a boy.

Now, Draco walked by his side again and he silently contemplated getting rid of the entire wing. If he married Hermione, as he planned, there would be little to no need to keep it. "Is there a reason I am coming here with you?" the boy asked, his arms firmly folded over his chest.

The tapping of Lucius's cane echoed throughout the chamber. "I wasn't aware I needed a reason," he replied as he lifted his wand and lit the sconces on the walls.

The portraits came to life as light was shed upon them. Wall after wall was covered with Malfoys. There were pedestals of busts at varying intervals, too. Lucius ignored them all.

"Ah, Draco!" one portrait called. "How much you have grown!"

Draco's eyes went to the portrait and he gave a small smile. "Hello, Great Grandfather Septimus," he greeted in return.

Lucius continued, bypassing all of the portraits until he came upon the two he wanted to see the most. Standing side by side, and looking regal and proud, his mother and father stared down at him with the same haughty look he had given countless others over the years.

"It's been years, son," the portrait of his mother stated. Dressed in emerald green robes with her long, blonde trellises wrapped up in a bun, she looked almost as young as he was.

"I've come seeking answers," Lucius told her.

The portrait of his father sniffed. "I was told by one of the house elves that you have freed them all. Is this true?"

"Does it matter?" Lucius replied. At his father's stern look, he shrugged. "I did, but for a good reason."

"Is it that upstart little Mudblood? The house elf also told me that you've begun the process of courting her, but I know you wouldn't dare smear the Malfoy name with such mud," Abraxas said, a sneer curling his upper lip.

Whispers echoed throughout the chambers as the other portraits heard his proclamation. Lucius lifted a single eyebrow. "The Malfoy name has already been smeared," he confessed. "While I will admit that is partly my own fault, I can hardly take all the blame, Father. With the downfall of the Dark Lord, no one trusts our family anymore, or former Death Eaters in general."

Abraxas growled. "That is why I had warned you against actually taking the Mark, Lucius. Malfoys do not openly engage in affairs that have, even the slightest, possibility of giving us a bad reputation. Shadows, son. We operate in the shadows."

"You went to school with the Dark Lord. You were one of his earliest supporters," Lucius accused. "But, no matter. I am trying to correct those wrongs. The girl I am courting is one of the heroes of this most recent war, a war which, unfortunately, Draco and I were both part of, though at the time, we were unwilling participants."

"Oh, Lucius, darling, what have you done?" the portrait of his mother asked as her face softened and she looked at the man.

"You're going to soil the Ancient House of Malfoy with Mudbloods?!" Abraxas shouted. "That is your plan? To become blood traitors and bring Mudbloods and Half-breeds into our House? Unacceptable!"

The words were echoed through the chambers with many portraits repeating what Abraxas said with various degrees of shrillness and anger. Lucius slammed his cane onto the ground. "Silence!" he hissed. The blast from his wand, hidden in the cane, made all of the portraits silent and nearly still.

Abraxas stared at Lucius hatefully. "You're no son of mine," he proclaimed.

"You're right," Lucius easily agreed. "My father died years ago. You are nothing more than a painting. One that is bound to serve me if ever I need anything."

"What do you want?" the portrait asked, his lips curled in anger.

"The location of Helen Malfoy," Lucius stated. "I know her records were destroyed, but I also know that you know where she is."

"I know only the mansion she was placed in," Abraxas said. "I do not know if she is still there."

"Tell me," Lucius ordered.

* * *

Author's Note: Dun, dun, DUNNNNN! Lol.

Thank you again to my wonderful betas, cowgalnina and Elle Morgan-Black! And thank you to all you lovely people who have read, faved, followed, and reviewed this story. There's still more to come, so hakuna matata! Please lemme know what you think of this chapter, too. :)


	7. Chapter 6

Hermione had invited her mother, Molly, and Astoria into her flat for an afternoon tea at Molly's insistence. She knew Molly was concerned about her ignorance of Pureblood courtship customs and rituals, especially after she had learned that Hermione and Lucius had already made-out several times.

"So, what?… no kissing?" Elizabeth asked in surprise as she poured the tea.

"That's right," Molly affirmed. "And no hand holding. Although, at the end of the evening, if Lucius wishes to kiss the back of her hand, there is nothing wrong with that."

"We were talking about my staying there tomorrow night," Hermione said. "It'll be late and we were wanting to have a nightcap before going to bed. I was planning on staying in one of the guest bedrooms."

"Absolutely not!" Molly stated firmly. "That is the quickest way to get yourself involved in a scandal. No, no. A lady should never stay in the home of a gentleman unrelated to her."

Hermione frowned. "He is planning to marry me."

"You have not given your vows yet," Molly reminded her. "And as such, it would be improper."

"Mrs. Weasley is right, Hermione," Astoria said as she sipped her tea.

The Muggleborn looked at the young witch who was fast becoming one of her best friends. "Aren't you staying there?"

The blonde scoffed. "Oh, goodness, no," she said. She gave a little giggle. "Though, it's not for lack of trying on Draco's part. My father would be horrified if I even suggested it."

Hermione's frown deepened and she looked at her mother. Elizabeth shrugged. "Things are very different in the Wizarding community, it seems. Personally, I see nothing wrong with them kissing, especially if they are in love."

Molly shrugged. "If Tony gives Lucius his permission, then I don't see a problem. But he has to ask, he cannot just take the initiative."

"What if my dad gave Lucius and me permission to allow me to stay there for the night, too?" Hermione prodded.

Molly closed her eyes and shook her head. "If you had been previously married, maybe. But otherwise it's simply not done, my dear," she told the girl.

"If someone were to see you, Hermione, imagine the rumors that would float," Astoria said. "Remember during the Triwizard Tournament? That article Skeeter did and the scandal that followed with you and Krum and Potter?"

"Speaking of, I spoke to Luna Nott," Molly said. "She agreed to do an interview with you and Lucius where you can officially announce your engagement."

"We aren't engaged yet," Hermione stated.

"But you will be, yes?" Molly asked. "Besides, you at least need to give Luna a statement about the courtship."

"I don't think Luna needs to know everything," Hermione commented, blushing a little.

Elizabeth frowned at her. "Hermione?"

Astoria's eyes widened. "What have you done?" she asked, placing a hand on her chest.

"Nothing!" Hermione protested, shaking her head. At the look her mother gave her, her blush became darker and she looked at her hands. "Well, nothing that could be considered _too_ bad. A bit of snogging, maybe some light petting…"

"Hermione Jean Granger!" Elizabeth hissed, though she smiled in amusement.

Hermione bit her bottom lip. "Nothing happened beyond that. I swear. And there's nothing wrong with it. It's not like he tarnished me or anything. We snogged and got a little heavy handed."

"You didn't see his…?" Elizabeth asked, not finishing her question, but giving Hermione a pointed look.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh, God no! I'm not that sort of girl," she said with an eye roll.

Her mother breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God! At least I taught my daughter something," she said, mostly to herself. She looked at her daughter and held up a hand. Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Honestly, this is so _backwards_. I can't begin to tell you how often Tony and I kissed before we married. And we even had sex before marriage," she said, sipping her tea. "If Hermione wants to sleep at Lucius's home, I really don't see anything wrong with it. And if they end up having sex?" She shrugged as she set her cup down. "There really are worse things."

Astoria stared at the Muggle, clearly abashed. "Not in the Wizarding community when it comes to virginal witches."

Elizabeth looked at her daughter. "So you did some light petting? What sort of petting? I mean, how far did it go or…?"

Hermione shook her head. "We were in the library and started kissing, and, well… next thing I know, we took each other's shirts off."

Blushing furiously, Astoria bowed her head, covered her ears, and muttered, "I can't hear this."

"So, what does he look like?" Elizabeth prodded. "Without a shirt, that is. All those clothes and robes gives too much for the imagination."

It was Hermione's turn to blush, though hers was more coy as she smiled. "Oh, Mum, he was…" she sighed, breathlessly. "His arms are very sculpted and his chest... " she smiled widely, " and...he has a six pack that vanishes into his trousers. I was so tempted to unzip and peek. It's like having my own GQ model."

Molly and Astoria stared at Hermione, clearly scandalized as Elizabeth fanned herself as her daughter gushed. "Well, I must say, I wasn't expecting that. Do you think he goes to the gym often?" she asked.

"There's a gym inside the Manor from what Draco tells me, though I've never seen it," Astoria answered, still blushing deeply. "And I do believe he and Draco ride their brooms a lot on the grounds, not to mention the Aethonans they own. And there's even a path through the grounds that Mr. Malfoy often runs in the morning."

"What's an Aethonan?" Elizabeth asked as Hermione gawked at Astoria in astonishment. Even Molly stared at the young witch in shock.

"It's a type of winged horse," Hermione answered robotically to her mother. "They're chestnut in colour and… Hang on. Astoria, you said Lucius owns Aethonans?"

The Slytherin nodded. "And Abraxans, and Granians, and even some Thestrals, I believe. Has he not told you?"

Hermione slowly shook her head. "I suppose it slipped his mind," she said absently.

"It might have," Astoria surmised. "Though, that does seem like something that wouldn't slip his mind with him trying to woo you. Unless… Do you not like horses?"

"I do," Hermione replied. "But then the conversation never came up, so…" She shrugged. "There's still a lot we don't know about one another. Maybe I mentioned to him during one of our dinners that I was afraid of flying so he assumed I wouldn't be interested?"

"That could be," the other girl agreed.

Elizabeth sighed. "Well, there will be plenty of time for you two to learn about one another," she said, lifting her cup again. "I do know when he visited Tony and me he had mentioned his intention to marry you."

Astoria nodded. "Honestly, though, we will need to do a bit of damage control. Even… petting, was it? Can be considered quite the scandal if anyone were to find out."

"Unfortunately, we can't have any more of that," Molly said. "Not until you're married. You aren't some experienced divorcee like he is. You're young and virginal."

"It's my body, though," Hermione pointed out. "If I want him to touch me…"

Molly and Astoria shared a look with one another. Molly sighed and looked back at Hermione. "Then we have been wasting our time, my dear. If you want to show Lucius that you can be a proper lady, then you must act like one. I know it is your body. And you have the right to decide what will happen to it. However, if you want him to have an ounce of respect for you, if you want society to see you as a proper lady, then, I implore you to listen to Astoria and me. That means: no snogging, no petting, no unchaperoned visits, no staying the night in his manor."

"And we need to get you some proper robes, too," Astoria stated with a nod of her head. "Mr. Malfoy did say he would fund anything we wish -."

"No!" Hermione snapped. "If I have to change my robes, he will _not_ be paying for them. I have my own money."

"Will it be enough, though?" Astoria asked, looking curiously at Molly.

Molly patted the young Slytherin's hand. "We'll go with her. If we are frugal, I'm sure there will be enough. And whatever she doesn't have the money for, I am sure we can think of something."

"Tony and I can help," Elizabeth suggested. She looked at Hermione. "You can consider it an early birthday present."

Hermione frowned. "I highly doubt it will cost that much."

Both of the Pureblood witches shook their heads. "My dear, you will need a whole new wardrobe," Molly told her. "Even your Muggle attire will need to be changed up a bit."

The Muggleborn's eyes widened. "No, it doesn't," she argued. "I can use what I have for times when he and I traverse into the Muggle community."

"And you'll look like his daughter," Elizabeth pointed out. "I hate to say it, but they're right. If you want anyone to take you seriously as his love interest, you will need to dress more grown-up. That means no more hoodies, no more Tesco bought clothing. It will be designer trousers and outfits from here on out."

"So I will go to Harrods," Hermione said, throwing up her hands. She looked at Astoria, "And we'll take a trip to Gladrags. I don't need a lot to start off with. Just enough to get by until I get paid again."

Astoria's eyebrows raised. "I think you're underestimating how much everything is going to cost."

"And you're underestimating how much I have," Hermione argued. "I make a sizable amount at the Ministry, plus I still have the money I was given for helping to defeat Voldemort. It may not be enough for an entire wardrobe, but it's a start, and it's without Lucius's money."

(II)(II)

"What is this?" Lucius asked as Hermione paused before him and gave a small curtsy.

When he reached out to touch her waist, she took a step back. He frowned. She gave him an apologetic look and glanced behind her where Molly Weasley was stepping out of the car with Anthony and Elizabeth. Hermione turned to look back at him. "I've been receiving lessons, Lucius," she explained, smiling wickedly. "And it's inappropriate for us to be touching one another at this juncture."

His frown deepened for a moment. Inappropriate? As realization dawned on him, he straightened up. So, that's how the little Muggleborn was going to play? Fixing his features to one of vague disinterest, he gave her a nod. "Of course, Miss Granger. Where are my manners?" He took her hand and, lifting it up a bit, bowed before it and kissed the back of it.

Releasing her hand, Lucius stood up and studied the people approaching them. He gave them a small smile. "Greetings, Anthony and Elizabeth. Mrs. Weasley. May I ask to what I owe this pleasure?"

Hermione glanced back at the mentioned people as Anthony answered, "The football game, of course."

"Ah, yes," Lucius said, raising his eyebrows. "Draco is in his room getting ready and I was heading that way myself when I heard the alarm alerting me to your presence. If you will follow me, I will gladly escort you all to the drawing room. Astoria should be arriving soon as well."

As he turned to reenter the manor, Hermione walked beside him. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye and mumbled softly, "Is there a reason Molly Weasley is here as well?"

Hermione gave a soft shrug. "She's my chaperone," she said simply. "With my mum and dad knowing so little about Pureblood customs, she offered to step up to the plate and they agreed. Father's given her full reign, too. Though I do still have final say in everything I do, you have to ask for her permission to do things such as kissing me, or even holding my hand."

"I don't have a ticket for her for this game," Lucius informed her.

She looked at him. "Perhaps Draco will be willing to give up his? Then she could bring Arthur. You know he would love this sort of thing."

Lucius could feel his blood boiling, though he kept his anger under control and hidden. Like hell he would give that mendicant anything that would bring him pleasure! "That won't be necessary," he assured her. "I'll simply contact the box office and gain an additional ticket. I take it Mrs. Weasley approves of our courtship?"

"Not really, no," Hermione said. "But she is willing to give me the guidance I need for it."

"I could have given you all the guidance you needed," he suggested.

Hermione smiled at him kindly. "Oh, yes, naturally. Did you know that half of the things we were doing were completely inappropriate and could have created a massive scandal that would have resulted in the loss of my reputation and, possibly, my career?"

He felt his jaw tighten. "You wouldn't have lost your career or your reputation," he hissed. He paused and looked at her, then at the Muggles and Molly. He waved a hand at the door before them and it swung open. "Astoria and Draco should be joining you inside shortly," he said to them.

As they walked into the drawing room, Elizabeth gasped. "Oh my!" She looked at her daughter. "Hermione, this place is gorgeous!"

The Muggleborn smiled prettily. "You should see the rest of the manor. Lucius has this amazing library that you could easily get lost in. And the dining hall…"

"You flatter me, darling," Lucius said. He snapped his fingers and a tray with a tea set and plate of biscuits appeared upon the table closest to the fire. "Feel free to help yourselves to some tea while I change." He looked at Molly and gave her a small nod of his head. "It is a pleasure to see you again, Molly."

The witch tilted her head curiously. "Is it?" she asked.

Annoyed, he did not respond. With a brief, tight grin, he bowed once more and exited the room towards his chambers to dress for this farce that was about to occur. And to Floo his bookkeeper about procuring another ticket for the match. He hadn't expected Molly Weasley to be attending, nor had he expected for these newfound rules.

Of course, they weren't "new" rules. They were simply rules Hermione hadn't been made aware of, and for good reason. It seemed he would need to take care of his problem before he returned to the drawing room and step up his own game. If Hermione planned on following the rules, then the sooner he had her engaged and wed, the sooner he would have her in his bed. Molly Weasley's presence complicated things a great deal for Lucius.

(III)(III)

" _GRANGER_!"

All three Grangers looked up from their tea. Anthony frowned and stood. "Who was that?"

Hermione immediately recognized Draco's voice and, putting her tea down on the table, she stood and drew her wand. As Draco stormed into the room, she couldn't help but laugh.

"Think this is funny, do you? I look like a bloody Gryffindork!" Draco shouted, clearly angry.

While his hair was slicked back, he sported a red and yellow Manchester United jersey with the numbers 02 printed on the front and back. In big, bold yellow letters, the name "Malfoy" was stamped above the numbers.

Hermione covered her mouth to conceal her giggle. "Those are the colours for Manchester United," she explained. "You look fine. Besides, I'm not the one who bought it for you. Astoria did."

"I am not wearing this rubbish!" he pronounced as he took his wand out.

At that moment, the flames in the fireplace turned green and Astoria stepped out of them. She wore the same jersey as Draco with the same numbers and lettering. She beamed when she saw him. "Oh, Draco, you wore it!" she exclaimed.

She looked so happy with the outfits that Hermione's own smile broadened. Draco looked devastated. "Of course, my dearest," he said through gritted teeth. "Though, you didn't tell me we would be dressing alike."

The young witch clapped her hands together. "Isn't it wonderful? I thought it would make for a lovely surprise. Besides, Man United is Mr. Granger's favourite team, isn't it, sir?"

Anthony smiled at Astoria. "That it is," he said. "And soon you will see why."

Astoria turned her attention back to Draco. "You look so handsome, too, my dearest."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I look like a Gryffindor," he argued.

Astoria tilted her head as she looked at him. "You know, I didn't think of that," she said, tapping her lips. "Huh. What an odd coincidence!" She waved a hand, dismissing the idea. "You're still more handsome. Far better looking than any Gryffindor." She sent Hermione an apologetic look. "Sorry, Hermione. Mrs. Weasley. You have to admit, though. He does look good."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "As if he needs his ego stroked any more than it already is," she said.

"Hermione Jean," Elizabeth reprimanded.

As if suddenly remembering, Hermione looked at the blond wizard. "Oh, Draco, these are my parents, Tony and Elizabeth Granger. Mum, Dad, this is Lucius's son," she said by introduction.

"Talking about strange coincidences," Draco commented as he held out his hand for Anthony to shake. "I still find it a bit odd that my father is currently courting my old schoolmate. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Granger?"

"Now, now, Draco," Lucius interrupted as he entered the room. "There's no need for that sort of talk."

Draco gaped at his father. "What the hell is that?!" he demanded, pointing at the black polo shirt with the Manchester United logo on the upper left hand corner that Lucius was wearing.

"Do watch your language in the presence of ladies, my boy," Lucius chided.

Draco folded his arms and glowered, to which Lucius narrowed his eyes. "Stop," the older Malfoy warned. He then ignored Draco as he turned to the Grangers. "Are we ready to depart?"

Molly took Hermione's hands in hers. "I suppose this is where I say goodbye for the moment. I trust you to behave yourself, yes?" she began.

"Ah, Molly," Lucius said, cutting her off. "It would bring me great pleasure if you would join us this afternoon. See? I happen to have an extra ticket. It is unfortunate that I wasn't able to procure one for Arthur as well, but there will always be another game."

"Oh, I don't know," Molly said. "I've never really been one for sports, and I don't have anything suitable to wear."

"It'll be loads of fun," Hermione promised. "Please come? A simple spell can transfigure what you're wearing."

(IV)(IV)

Lucius had never been more bored in his life and let his mind wander a bit. Maybe it was due to the lack of interaction since Molly had become a Weasley, but he had forgotten that she had once been a Prewitt. Though the Prewitts had been nowhere near the class of Malfoy, they did know more than a thing or two about the customs and traditions. However, he hadn't expected Hermione to seek her out. If anything, he had assumed that the feud between the two families would keep her _from_ doing so. He had been wrong. Severely. This annoyed the hell out of him.

It wasn't because he ached for feminine touch, either. He did enjoy kissing Hermione, and touching her. She was the perfect student… He closed his eyes as he thought back to her school files and the conversations he had had with Severus and Draco about the girl. He should have known and felt distinctly pissed that her studious nature had managed to escape him. Damn.

As the crowd roared at another goal scored, he frowned. He looked at Hermione as she pulled on his sleeve.

"Oh, look!" she exclaimed excitedly as she pointed to the players on the field.

"Darling?" he questioned, keeping his face curious and interested.

She paid little attention, however, and quickly let go of him as she walked up to the railing where Anthony and Astoria stood, both clearly enjoying themselves.

He sighed as he glanced at his son, who continued to glower. "Father, this is the worst idea you've ever had. You know that, right?" the young man commented.

Lucius shrugged. "They look to be having fun," he said, indicating the people at the railing.

Draco looked at him. "Aren't you supposed to be seeking permission?"

"Patience, my son," Lucius assured him. "I have a good feeling about this game."

"There's no brooms," Draco complained, glaring at his father.

The older wizard frowned. "It's a Muggle sport, son. They don't ride brooms."

Draco threw a hand at the game. "Then put them on horses or something. This is boring."

"That's polo," Hermione commented as she rejoined the two Malfoys. "And it isn't boring if you understand the rules of the game."

Lucius offered her his hand and gave her a soft smile. "I do believe that, even with understanding the rules, it can be a bit boring when compared to a Quidditch match," he surmised.

She sat down next to him. "Astoria seems to be having fun," she observed.

"Astoria has a habit of imitating other people's energy," Draco explained. "If the people around her are excited, so is she. If they are not, she isn't."

"Then maybe you should try to emulate her," Hermione suggested.

Draco snorted. "I'm already wearing this god-awful jersey! What more do you want?"

"You're supposed to be wooing her, correct?" Hermione asked. "Shouldn't you be up there, standing by her side? You could at least pretend to be enjoying yourself."

"I already wooed her, Granger. We're getting married, remember?" he spat.

Hermione folded her arms. "Thank heavens for that, too," she said. "You know, Draco, you should consider yourself lucky to be marrying her. Astoria is beautiful, smart, and quite funny. Never mind that she is a part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, not that that sort of thing matters to me, but we both know how important it is to you. You won't find many young, available witches like her. Especially ones who will willingly be seen alongside an ex-Death Eater."

"And what does that make _you_ , Granger? Care to boast about yourself?" Draco challenged, his eyes narrowing.

"I wasn't talking about me," the Muggleborn stated.

"No, but I bet that's what you think, isn't it?" he growled. In a falsetto, he placed a hand on his chest and piped up mockingly, "'Look at me! I'm Hermione Granger, brightest witch of her year, hero of the Second War, and I got none other than Pureblood Lucius Malfoy! Me! Mudblood Granger is courting Death Ea-."

Lucius snapped into action from his seat and whacked the younger wizard with his cane, snarling at his son. "You will _NEVER_ use that word again. Do you understand me, _boy_? I don't give a damn about your past or hers. You will treat her with the respect and dignity she deserves or so help me, I will make certain you never receive any sort of inheritance from me. Do I make myself clear?" he snarled aggressively.

Hearing the sound of the cane hitting Draco, the others had turned from the game to see what was taking place. Molly quickly walked up to Hermione, who had stood when Lucius popped Draco with the cane, and held her, keeping her from drawing her wand. "Lucius, there are _Muggles_ ," the older witch hissed.

"What's going on here?" Anthony asked as he, Astoria, and Elizabeth joined them.

"Parenting," Lucius replied, still staring at his son. "You _will_ apologize. Now."

Draco looked hatefully at Hermione. "Sorry," he mumbled, grumpily.

"That's not good enough. You are a Malfoy, boy. Do it right," Lucius ordered, folding his arms and looking down at his son.

Draco gave a heavy sigh. With a groan, he heaved himself up and turned to Hermione. In a much clearer, but still grudgingly, voice, he said, "I should not have used that word in reference to you, Granger, especially to you. For that, I apologize."

Hermione had straightened up, relaxing a little as Molly did as well. "It's fine," the brunette said. "Though, I am curious by what you thought you would gain by using that word. Honestly, Draco, I had thought we were on a path to being friends. I guess I was wrong."

Draco's eyes hardened. "I guess so," he replied.

Astoria approached Draco and placed a hand on his arm. "You don't mean that," she implored, looking at him. "Hermione is an amazing friend."

"I'm sure she is," he said, glancing at his betrothed. "However, we weren't friends in school and, until Father started courting her, I had never given her a second thought."

Astoria frowned. "What's with you?" she asked. "You never act this way, not anymore. I thought you liked the fact that your father was courting her? Didn't you tell me that you thought she would be a great addition to the family if he were to ask her to marry him? Then you could have a little sister or brother. You know your mother can't have any more children."

Draco pinched his lips together and gave the girl a sour look. "And I asked you not to say anything about that," he reminded her softly.

Hermione's frown deepened. "I don't understand," she said, looking at him in confusion.

"Never you mind, Granger," Draco commented. "This is not a topic for discussion here. Besides," he said, looking up at the field, "I thought we were supposed to be watching a game."

(V)(V)

Lucius sighed as he handed Anthony a glass of brandy. "I wish to apologize to you for the spectacle you had the misfortune of witnessing today," the wizard said as he sat down in his chair beside the fireplace.

After the game that Manchester United won, Lucius had invited everyone back to the Manor for supper and drinks. Supper was met with cheery discussion about the game and a promise from Lucius to show Hermione the horses on the morrow. How the little Muggleborn had learned of those, Lucius hadn't the faintest idea. But he was pleased that she was aimable to seeing them. He remembered their conversation at the restaurant the other night and knew she had a slight fear of flying.

"Well, I reckon Draco is young. Honestly, I wouldn't doubt it if Hermione had pressed his buttons, though…" He looked at Lucius, "They are the same age, are they not?"

Lucius pressed his lips together. "They are," he answered. "Well, for the most part. Hermione is nearly a year older."

"Semantics," Anthony responded. "That still begs the question as to the reasoning for your interest in her. Not that I blame you, but you did call Draco a boy today and I can't help but wonder how he differs from Hermione in that regard."

"What Draco did was highly immature and improper," Lucius said. "When he acts childish, I feel a need to call him out on it. Hermione, on the other hand… well, since we've started courting, I have felt no need to react the same."

"Oh, but you will," Anthony pointed out, wisely. "Regardless of how mature she acts, Hermione is still young and has been known to… step out of line at times."

Lucius thought back on the incident with the bag. "She simply needs a bit of guidance in our customs and traditions, is all. She is highly intelligent and can pick up on things quite easily."

"She is also fiercely passionate," Anthony said. "Particularly when it comes to those she is close to or projects she is working on. She spoke to me briefly about some of her cases and, while I don't really understand much of them, I saw the fire in her eyes and heard the passion in her voice. I also know, from what she's told me in the past, that you have often been on the opposing side of many of the things she desires."

"Well, as you've stated, she is quite passionate," Lucius agreed. "However, sometimes that passion can go beyond the restrictions of our government. I don't wish to oppose her, however, sometimes she does go too far too fast. I want what she wants, Anthony, however, there are limitations to how much the Wizarding community will accept. It takes time. I am but one wizard. There are many wizards, and witches, who are quite opposed to the changes she wishes to make. I want to help her, but it will take gradual time and patience."

"Why?" the Muggle asked, taking a sip of the brandy. He made a face and watering, he questioned, "Are you going to profess your love for the girl? Good Lord, this brandy is strong!"

Lucius frowned, looking down at his own glass. He took a pull from it to give himself a moment to think. Love? He inwardly sniffed. Unlikely. The girl was merely a means to an end. However, he knew that if he were to rise up again, he would need to comply. "Hermione is a beautiful woman," he admitted. "Beneath those bountiful curls is an intellect that would rival that of Merlin himself. She also has a heart of gold. She is a powerful witch with a skill and fire to fight for those less fortunate. I imagine she acquired that from you and your lovely wife. Were it not for the efforts of Hermione and her friends, I do fear we all would have lost everything in the war."

"Do you mean to say that you've fancied Hermione since the war? She was, what? Eighteen years old at the time?" the Muggle inquired, looking disgusted by the thought.

"No," Lucius replied, bluntly. He would need to backtrack a little. "It wasn't until after the war and closer to my divorce that I started seeing Hermione as something other than a battle worn little girl. She had joined the Ministry, and she was so brilliant and beautiful. And infectious. I began willingly donating to her causes and supporting what she wanted. After Narcissa and I divorced, I even freed my house elves and offered them employment, as Hermione wished."

Anthony nodded. "Are you still intending to marry her?" he asked. "Hermione, I mean."

Lucius raised a single eyebrow. "Would you oppose?" he returned.

Anthony glanced about the drawing room. The women sat around the grand piano and were chatting quietly amongst themselves while Draco sat beside Astoria, idly listening to them. "Well, this is an incredible home you have here, Lucius," he commented. "I doubt she would ever want for anything."

"And she wouldn't," Lucius agreed. "She'll always have everything she needs and desires."

"And love?" Anthony pressed.

Lucius gazed at the women, his eyes falling upon the brunette they were discussing. The waning sunlight fell from the window and onto her hair, adding to the glowing look she had. She was laughing about something one of the women had said. Lucius watched as she glanced in his direction and they made eye contact. He smiled softly at her, his smile widened when hers did.

Turning his attention back to Anthony, Lucius nodded. "I believe so," he answered.

"Then you should tell her," the Muggle said. "I'm sure she would like to hear it."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "I intend to. Do I have your blessing then?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.

Anthony shrugged as he sat back in his chair. "It's her choice, in the end," he commented as he nursed his glass. "Personally, I would prefer her to marry someone a bit younger, but she has taken a fancy to you. Honestly, I know so little about the traditions and ways of the Wizarding community, but isn't this moving rather quickly? You've only been dating, er, courting for a couple weeks."

Lucius took another sip of his brandy, as he tamped down his desire to lash out at the Muggle's insult. "It's simply how things are done, Anthony. With a few exceptions, the wizarding community does not produce as quickly, or as rapidly, as the Muggle community. So, the sooner a couple marry, the sooner they can begin trying to have children. Narcissa and I married right out of Hogwarts, and after four miscarriages, we finally produced a child, Draco. Narcissa couldn't conceive any more children after him, which was fine with me. Her eldest sister, Bellatrix, wasn't able to produce at all, and, from what I know, her other sister only had one child as well. Hermione did tell you that wizards age differently than Muggles, yes?" he asked.

Anthony shrugged. "She might have mentioned it," he replied. "She also told me that they live longer, too. That doesn't change the fact that there is a twenty-five year difference between the two of you. Nor does it change the fact that while you were changing Draco's nappies, I was doing the same with Hermione. It doesn't really matter how long you live, in the end. You will still always be twenty-five years her senior. Now, you may be fine with this, as may she. And, honestly, she is past the age where it is really any of my concern. But you asked, and since I have a feeling we will end up being family, I have decided to be honest with you. Take from it what you will. I just hope you treat her right. Hermione has a good heart and I would hate to see it used, broken, and destroyed beyond repair."

"The average wizard, or witch, can live to be a hundred and fifty years old," Lucius told him, "If not longer. If I live to be a hundred and fifty, and Hermione remains alive as well, she will be well over a hundred years old. So, you see, age really doesn't matter in the wizarding world. What matters is compatibility and a desire to want to be with one another. Do you honestly believe I would, as you put it, use, break, and destroy her heart beyond repair?"

Anthony sighed, sipping his drink. "Honestly? I don't know, Lucius. You seem like a good man, or could be one. But I remember that day in that bookshop. The way you spoke to Arthur Weasley and his family. You may not have thrown the first punch, but you did a bang up job instigating it. Of course, I don't know the relationship you have with Weasley, so it really isn't my place to judge. I do remember, though, that much of your condemnation had to do with the fact that Arthur was speaking to my wife and me. I'm curious as to how your opinion about Muggles has changed so drastically that you would consider a Muggleborn wife," he said, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Lucius guardingly.

Lucius stared down at his glass. Running a thumb over the rim, the glass magically refilled itself, and he took another sip. "War changes people," he said as he stared into the fire of the fireplace. "When the Dark Lord was first defeated, Draco was only a year old and I knew Narcissa couldn't have any more children. When the Dark Lord returned, I knew it was only a matter of time before he was defeated again. Unfortunately, I had already been branded with the Dark Mark, so, to keep my family as safe as I possibly could, I played my part."

"What made you think he would be defeated again?" Anthony asked.

Lucius gave him a droll look. "Because the first time he was defeated was by an infant. Harry Potter was only a year old, about a month younger than Draco," Lucius drawled. "When the Dark Lord returned, the boy was much older. I had hoped it wouldn't take him long to defeat the Dark Lord again, and it didn't."

"So you stacked all your cards for a boy?" Anthony questioned. "That's a bit foolhardy, isn't it?"

Lucius scoffed. "Of course I didn't," he replied. He looked at Hermione again and nodded his head toward her. "But she did."

Anthony gazed in the same direction and sniffed. "She's just a child, and was one at the time," he commented.

"She is your child," Lucius easily agreed, "not mine. To me, she is an accomplished young woman who was raised well. I may not have always made the right choices, but I trust her. I can honestly say that she has never let me down. Never gave me reason to doubt her abilities or decisions."

Anthony turned his attention back to Lucius. "And her decision is you now," he concluded. He sighed, "I just want to make sure she's happy. She's my only child, my baby girl. As a father, you understand the plight I am in, I'm sure. If she's happy, then, I can live with it."

Lucius gave a wry smile and took another sip of his drink. He didn't bother answering Anthony, for they both knew the truth of the matter. Lucius may not have her completely now, but he was well on his way. "I intend to ask her to marry me," he said. It wasn't a question, or a request.

The Muggle nodded solemnly. "When?"

"Tonight," the wizard replied and finished his brandy.

* * *

Author's Notes: Thank you again to my lovely betas, cowgalnina and Elle Morgan-Black! You ladies are amaze-balls!

Thank you, also, to my wonderful readers, followers, and reviewers! Feel free to let me know what you think!


	8. Chapter 7

Lucius glanced up at the clock on the mantel. It was a quarter after eight now and he knew people would start going home for the evening. In fact, he was surprised they had stayed as long as they did.

He took a moment to reflect. Was he really willing to spend the rest of his life with a Mudblood? No. Not a Mudblood. Muggleborn. She was a Muggleborn, and he would have to remember that. Did he really want to marry her? To be with her forever? Sure, he and Narcissa had divorced, but then, they had never been particularly bound to one another due to her lack of virginity upon marriage. However, Hermione was a virgin, which meant that a marriage with her could be binding if they so wished it to be.

Hermione was also a war hero. Her career within the Ministry was just beginning and she had already achieved success in the Wizengamot. There was no doubt in his mind that she had a glorious future ahead of her. Any wizard worth his salt would wish to be by her side, Muggleborn or not.

If he wanted to be that wizard, he would have to bite his tongue and put aside his notions of blood status. He had spent most of his life remaining stubborn, refusing to see another way. His actions nearly lost him his son and did cost him his marriage.

Taking a deep breath, he snapped his fingers and Poppet appeared before him with a loud _Crack!_

"Blimey!" Anthony shouted as he jumped. "What the hell is that?"

Poppet paid the Muggle no mind as she looked up at Lucius. "Yes, Master? You called for Poppet?"

Lucius nodded. "I want you to bring us a tray of wine glasses filled with our stock from

1980," he told her. "Wait. Instead, bring a bottle of Malfoi de Rosé from 1959."

"Yes, Master. Poppet will get that for you right away, sir," she said as she cracked out of the room.

Hermione glanced at the two gentlemen at the fireplace curiously as Anthony stared at the spot Poppet had been. "What the bloody hell was that?" he repeated, looking up at Lucius with wide eyes.

"A house elf," Lucius said simply as he set his brandy down on the table next to his chair and stood.

He crossed the room to the rest of the guests. "If I may be so bold," he said as he offered his hand to Hermione who was seated between her mother and Astoria. "May I?"

Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink as she lifted her hand and placed it into his. "Yes, you may," she said as he helped her to stand.

"You look beautiful, darling," he told her. "But then, you always do."

She smiled softly. "You're pretty dashing yourself," she replied.

He heard Draco scoff. "I think I might vomit," he said as he gave his father a dirty look.

Lucius's eyes narrowed as he glanced at his son. "Then you might wish to vacate the room," he stated rather blandly. "If you make a mess on this rug, I will make you clean it. By hand. Without magic."

As Draco rolled his eyes, Poppet reappeared with a tray of glasses filled with pink champagne. Lucius looked down at the little elf, gave her a nod, and accepted two of the glasses. He gave Hermione one.

Her smile widened as she watched Poppet offer glasses of wine to the others. She looked up at Lucius. "And what is the reason for the champagne?" she asked.

Lucius glanced at the others. "I would like to thank all of you for joining us today," he told them. "The football match was… educational."

Elizabeth gave a small giggle. "It was brilliant," she said, looking happily at Lucius. "We should be thanking you, though, Lucius. It's been a long time since Tony and I have been to a match, and we've never been to one with such great seats. You've truly outdone yourself."

Lucius's lips curled in a smirk and he tipped his glass to her. "It honestly was no trouble at all," he replied. "However, after speaking with Anthony, I do have something I wish to ask," he turned his attention back to Hermione, "you."

He watched her reaction and could see her curiosity grow, as well as her, apparent, nerves. She truly did wear her emotions on her sleeve. He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it.

"We come from two different worlds, you and I," he said. "It would be foolish of me to pretend otherwise. However, over the course of our courtship, I couldn't help but notice how well matched we are. You're beautiful, intelligent, and passionate. I've never known anyone like you, who can challenge my previous beliefs and make me desire for something more. A more perfect union. Because of you, I've freed my house elves, offering them a wage in exchange of their services. Because of you, I've begun focusing my attention on giving others equality. I want to make this world a better place. I wish to stand against those who would oppress others. I want to be a better man. For you. For me. For all. I want to be by your side, for you are the change this community needs. The change I need."

Taking a deep breath, he licked his lips and said, "Love seeketh not itself to please, Nor for itself hath any care; But for another gives its ease, And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair." He could see that he was saying the right things, for her eyes teared up.

"William Blake," she replied as her smile broadened.

He got down on one knee. Setting his glass aside him, he reached into his pocket and took out a black jewelry box. Her face reddened and tears fell freely from her eyes as he opened the box and presented her with a platinum oval Burma ruby and diamond ring. The ruby was a deep, dark shade of red and had 4-carat diamonds on either side of the ruby. Smaller, 2 carat diamonds framed either side of the band, though the middle of the band was pure platinum. "My great grandfather had this fashioned for his wife in the mid 1800s," he told her, knowing she enjoyed learning about history. "Hermione Granger, if you will, nothing would make me happier, if you would consent to becoming my wife. Together, I believe we can do many wonderful things," he licked his lips. "I love you, my darling."

God, it hurt him to say those words, but he knew that, as a Gryffindor Muggleborn, how deeply those words would affect her. So, he stared up at her with kind, loving eyes.

"Oh, Lucius," she whispered through her tears. He had never seen a more broad smile. "Yes! A thousand times, yes!"

He smiled back at her and, taking the ring out of the box, slipped it upon her finger.

Picking up his glass, he stood. He glanced at Anthony briefly and then back at Hermione. "I'm going to kis-"

He didn't get a chance to finish his statement as her lips crashed onto his. He wrapped his free hand around her waist, holding his glass safely away. He felt someone touch his hand to take his glass and glanced at them to see Draco. He relinquished the glass to his son and, wrapping his other arm around the girl, deepened the kiss.

He pulled away slightly, breaking the kiss and looking at her hazily. He reached up, brushing the hair out of her face and cupping her cheek. "You don't know how happy you've just made me, my dear."

She giggled. "I feel the same. Oh, God, I don't know how, but, I love you, Lucius. I love you so much," she said through her tears.

He kissed her again and silently rejoiced. He knew they still had the ceremony and various rituals before she would become completely his own, but he was thrilled with this victory. Soon. Very soon, she would be his in every way possible.

They finally pulled away and Draco handed his father back the glass. Lucius nodded at his son and turned his attention to everyone else. "Well, I suppose there is more to celebrate," he commented, earning a few chuckles.

Hermione giggled as she kissed Lucius's cheek and hugged him around the waist. He had to stop himself from freezing at the touch, for the last time he had been hugged around the waist, it had been by Draco when he was six.

"Hermione, I know you're engaged now, but there are still precautions you have to take," Molly warned.

Lucius suppressed an eyeroll. "Really, Mrs. Weasley, we don't have to do everything by the book," he chided. "It's perfectly fine if she wants to -."

"But it's not," the witch insisted. "You're the one who wants to keep the Pureblood traditions. Hermione came to me asking my help. I'm trying to look out for her, as is my duty. If she wants to be a proper lady, there are rules and guidelines she must follow. And some of those have to do with etiquette. You're not married yet."

Lucius lifted an eyebrow as his eyes darkened in annoyance. "Do you not think I know that?" he asked. "However, part of etiquette has to do with consent. If she wishes to show affection towards me, I welcome it. She doesn't have to be a perfect little princess. Not tonight, in the privacy of my home."

Molly folded her arms, looking perturbed, but he didn't really care. He silently basked in her anger, though he did not show it. She was right, of course. Hermione hugging him was highly inappropriate, especially in front of guests. But then, so was the kiss they shared when she accepted his proposal. Well, a brief peck on the lips would have been fine, but that wasn't exactly Hermione's style. And he enjoyed her enthusiasm.

"Don't worry, Molly," Hermione said. "I don't intend to stay the night. Right now, right here, I'm just so excited, and…" She looked up at Lucius and he could see she was completely dazzled. "I never thought I would hear you proclaim your love for me," she told him.

The look she gave him went straight to his groin and his eyes drooped a little. It angered him that she had said she wasn't going to stay the night, but he knew that, if they were to do things correctly, then she couldn't. He also knew that, if she had agreed to stay the night, there was a very large possibility that they would consummate their union before the wedding and that was not an option. He would have to resign himself to his hand for a while longer, it seemed.

He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. "I know I haven't said it before, and for that, I apologize," he said.

She shook her head. "No, it's all right. I know it's deemed as 'improper' to tell someone you love them. I mean, I think it's wrong, but I don't hold it against you," she said.

Elizabeth frowned. "Don't you think it's too soon, though?" she questioned.

 _How dare she!_ Lucius wanted to growled. His brow furrowed in annoyance as he took a deep breath to calm the rage building up inside him. "It's been a month since we've started courting," he explained slowly. "Most courtships don't last nearly as long."

"And some last longer," Molly chimed in.

Lucius bit back a retort as Elizabeth looked at her daughter and asked, "Shouldn't you live together for a little while? I mean, courting is all well and good, but you won't truly know a person until you've lived with them. What if you marry and a week down the road, you decide it is inconceivable that you live together? A month of courting is hardly enough time to make such a decision that will affect the rest of your lives, is it not?"

"Um, mum…. I'm a virgin. I can't exactly live with him," Hermione pointed out. "Besides we've known one another for years."

Elizabeth nodded, but argued, "That may be true, but knowing one another and actually dating are two different things. And if we're going to go that route, most of the time you've known one another, you've despised each other."

"It doesn't take much for one to realize they were wrong and seek to change," Lucius said. "I've never despised Hermione. She may have… irritated me in the past, but we were fighting on opposite sides of a war. But 'despised'? No."

Hermione blushed sheepishly. This entire conversation had taken a much more dramatic turn than he had expected and Lucius was loving it. Lucius hid his amusement, though, as he raised an eyebrow when she said, "I wish I could say the same. I just… You weren't a very good man at the time, Lucius. And your son treated me horribly in school. Not that a relationship between us would have been appropriate while I was in school. I mean, you were married and so much older than I at the time."

Lucius cringed as she began to prattle. Reaching out to take her hand, Lucius pulled her close to him. "It's all in the past now, darling," he urged her, cutting off her commentary.

She nodded. "Right," she agreed. Looking at her mother, she said, "It's in the past now and I've never felt this way towards anyone. Not even Ron. I want to be with Lucius, mum. I love him."

Elizabeth sighed. "I'm not going to stop you, sweetheart. I'm just trying to be cautious is all," she told her. "You're a grown woman and I trust that you can make appropriate decisions for your life. If you truly feel that he is 'the One', then what kind of mother am I to come between that?" Her lips turned into a little smile and she winked at Lucius. "He is a handsome man. Judging by his son, I do believe you'll have beautiful children, if and when you are ready for them."

Hearing the proclamation out loud from the Muggle woman, made Lucius internally blanch. They would really be having children together, eventually. He was going to father a Half-blood, or two. However, Hermione seemed delighted by the idea and they had discussed it once before. He would have to resign himself to Half-blood children. So, he plastered a small smile on his face, hiding his disgust.

Why was he still disgusted by such prospects, though? He had already decided to marry the little Mud-...Muggleborn and, tonight, had asked her to do so.

Inwardly, he groaned, thinking about the things he did for his family, his name, and his fortune. He and Draco had discussed the budget reports the other day and he had been pleasantly surprised by the little increase. He imagined that once news got out that he and Hermione were engaged, said reports would only grow even more.

He would need to stop referring to Hermione as a "Mudblood" in his mind. Now that she was his betrothed and after the argument with his son at the football game, he would need to quit using such derogatory language towards her, even if he knew she couldn't actually hear it.

"Do you even want more children at your age, Lucius?" Anthony questioned, jarring the wizard out of his thoughts.

Lucius raised an eyebrow at that and frowned. "As I've said, wizards age differently from muggles. I am still quite young, by wizarding standards, and more than capable of bearing more offspring should I wish it," he answered rather haughtily.

Draco scoffed. "I think I'm going to call it a night," he said dismissively. He looked at Astoria. "Are you sure I can't convince you to stay? It is rather late."

The young witch smiled prettily at Draco. "You know what my father would say," she told him. "Besides, we're getting married on Wednesday. Surely you can wait, what, four more days?"

Lucius watched as Draco stared unhappily at the girl. From past experiences, he knew that it was about this time when Draco would throw a tantrum about not being able to play with whatever toy he fancied. Lucius felt his muscles harden as he prepared to intervene.

He needn't to have worried, though, for Draco just sighed in annoyance. "Fine," he said. Lifting Astoria's hand, he kissed the back of it and bowed a little. "Then I will bid you a good night, my love."

She blushed. "Wednesday," she reminded him.

"And then forever," Draco finished as he straightened up.

She kissed his cheek and walked to the fireplace. "Draco is right. It is pretty late. I can imagine my parents are worried about me by now," she said.

"I'm surprised Eugene hasn't called," Lucius commented, agreeing with the girl.

He heard a gasp and looked to see Molly standing there with wide eyes. "Is that really the time?" she asked, staring at the mantlepiece.

"You can use my Floo, Molly," Lucius suggested.

She shot him a look. "Yes, yes, of course, but I do want to make sure Tony, Elizabeth, and Hermione get home safely," she said.

"Good night, everyone," Astoria said as she took the jar of Floo powder off the mantle and grabbed a handful of the stuff.

Anthony and Elizabeth watched curiously as she threw the powder into the fireplace, shouted, "Greengrass Estates." The fire turned green and she stepped through.

Elizabeth gasped in shock as Anthony took a step back. "Holy shite!" He looked at Hermione and pointed at the fire, which had now returned to it's red and gold flames.

Hermione shrugged. "It's a bit shocking at first," she said calmly as she stepped up to her parents and rubbed her mother's arm. "But you get used to it. Wizards can't use things like telephones, or any other sort of technology. It interferes with magic. So, they've devised their own methods of communication. The Floo Network works as a sort of house telephone, except it can also transport you from one fireplace to another, if you like."

Her parents stared at her, gobsmacked. "So, she's ok?" Elizabeth asked, her eyes wide.

Hermione nodded with a smile. "More than ok," she assured her. She glanced dubiously at Molly and then at Lucius. "At least she should be. You don't think Mr. Greengrass will be angry with her for staying out so late, do you?"

Lucius shook his head. "No, my darling. He knows where she's been and with whom she's been," he told her. "And he will receive confirmation from me on the morrow."

She looked at him for a moment and, while he remained happy, he gave nothing more away. Accepting his answer, she nodded and gave him a soft smile before kissing his cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, then, I suppose?"

He looked at her patiently. "Of course," he agreed.

(II)(II)

Molly stood in the middle of the Burrow with a broom in her hand as she looked at Hermione. It was Sunday and the older witch was desperately trying to get her cleaning done. She had severely slacked off yesterday.

"You cannot see him without a chaperone!" Molly insisted as Hermione brushed her hand through her hair.

The Muggleborn sighed. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I've been going to the Manor for over a month now. Alone," she explained for what seemed like the millionth time.

As Hermione stood up, the older witch touched her shoulders and turned her so they were facing one another. "I know," she said, calmly. "And I know you're a grown woman with the ability to make her own decisions. You came to me. You asked me to help you as you navigate through Pureblood customs and traditions. Part of my helping you means that you have to trust me. The last thing I want to do is dissuade you from spending time with him."

"He wants my help to find his sister," Hermione blurted.

Molly paused and looked at her in confusion. "Sister? Lucius Malfoy doesn't have a sister."

"No, he does," Hermione told her. "It was never mentioned before because she's a Squib."

Molly's frown deepened. "Why is he suddenly interested in finding her? Pureblood families have little, if anything, to do with Squibs. Most put them in Muggle orphanages or leave them in Muggle hospitals. It's even rumoured that some of the older families, like the Malfoys, kill them."

Hermione hesitated. Would Abraxas and his wife have killed Helen Malfoy? No. That couldn't be! She refused to believe it. Besides, the Ministry would never allow something like that, would they? "According to Lucius, his father had sent her to a Muggle boarding school and bought her a house in Surrey once she graduated. He had left her some money, too, in a Muggle bank account," she argued as her mind went through the idea of Helen Malfoy.

Did Abraxas kill his own daughter? No. The Muggleborn pushed that thought aside. There was no way… But then, Bellatrix killed her niece and would have killed her sister if Andromeda had been there… Bellatrix was mad, though, and a Black. The Malfoys wouldn't be so cruel, would they?

She looked at Molly's dubious expression and sighed. "Lucius is under the impression that she is alive. I want to help him find her. And part of me helping him is going to the Manor."

"You can't go alone," Molly argued.

"Then come with me," Hermione shot back, her eyes pleading.

Molly glanced about the living room. Turning her attention back to Hermione, she asked, "Why not see if Ginny can go with you? I have so many house chores to attend to."

"Isn't she busy as well?" Hermione questioned. "With James and the baby that's on the way…"

"It doesn't hurt to ask her," Molly stated.

Hermione stared at the older woman. She loved Molly and she did want her help, but, in her mind, this wasn't something she needed help in. She had been doing quite alright on her own with Lucius. _Except when we were making out in the library. And when he tried to take things further in the study…_

She pressed her lips together and glanced at the clock. Oh, she was so late! She looked at Molly. "Let me Floo her," she said as she went to the fireplace.

The conversation between Hermione and Ginny didn't go well, though. James was sick and throwing a tantrum, which made Ginny frazzled to the point snapping, "Just don't go, or go by yourself."

Hermione sat back on her heels as the clock struck four. Standing, she dusted off her trousers and looked at Molly. "I told Lucius I would be there."

"Then send him an owl and explain to him that you cannot come at this moment. I'm sure he'll understand, especially if he wants to continue courting you," Molly reasoned.

Hermione stared at the older witch. "Have you ever known me to cancel plans like that before?" She asked. "Look. You have your hands tied. Ginny is busy with the little one. I promised Lucius I would go to the Manor and help him. I'm going."

"Then what's the point of these lessons?" Molly asked in annoyance. "Why bother if you're just going to do as you wish anyway? I spent a whole bloody day with you and your husband-to-be yesterday, and I am willing to do it again on any other day, but I have work here that I have to get done. I can't go anywhere today, and you see that. Just look at this house!"

Hermione sighed. "I don't need help learning how to keep myself out of scandal."

"And fooling around with Lucius in his library is 'keeping yourself out of scandal'?" Molly replied, her hands on her hips.

"We didn't have sex," Hermione reminder her.

Molly folded her hands. "Well, that's a relief. And if he does want to have sex with you? What if he forces you to have sex with him?"

"Lucius would NEVER do something like that," Hermione snarled savagely. "He knows that I want to wait. He respects me."

"How can he respect you when you allow him to have such liberties?" Molly questioned.

Hermione stared at the woman. She was right. Closing her eyes, Hermione took a deep breath and sighed. "I have to go to the manor today. I made a promise," she said, feeling defeated.

Before Molly could say anything more, a large eagle owl flew into the window of the kitchen and landed on one of the chairs. In its beak was a white envelope. Hermione sucked in her bottom lip as she approached the bird. "Hello," she greeted it. "Are you one of Lucius's?"

The bird dropped the envelope onto the table and screeched at her. "All right," Hermione said as she hurried to the table to pick up the envelope.

It was sealed with a large green "M". She felt the blood in her face drain as she sat down in the chair beside the bird. The bird didn't move, just looked at her. "Molly, do you have any lunch meat?" she asked. "Or maybe some water?"

"Of course," the matron said as she went to the sink to fill a small bowl of water, which she placed upon the table.

The bird still did not move. It just watched Hermione. "Would you like some water?" the girl asked. "Or, I may have some owl treats in my purse." She turned to open her purse when the bird screeched at her again.

"It may be waiting for a reply," Molly suggested.

She didn't know why she was so nervous. Taking a deep to mentally prepare herself, Hermione broke the seal. She pulled out a letter written on silver-lined parchment. For a moment, she just admired the penmanship. "Oh," she whispered. She remembered commenting on how lovely Abraxas Malfoy had written. It was nothing compared to this. Lucius seemed to have mastered calligraphy. It was a work of art.

" _My dearest Hermione,_

 _I do hope all is well, my darling. I assume your busy schedule has left you with little time to do much else today. I understand if you are unable to make it here this evening._

 _If Mrs. Weasley approves, I would be honoured with the pleasure of your company tomorrow evening. If she insists on a chaperone, she and Mr. Weasley are more than welcomed to join us and I will inform the restaurant so they can make adjustments accordingly. Or, if she wouldn't be opposed, and they wouldn't, we could ask the Potters? Whatever you think would be more suitable._

 _Either way, my owl, Iris, shall wait with you until you've given your answer._

'It has made me better loving you … it has made me wiser, and easier, and brighter. I used to want a great many things before, and to be angry that I did not have them. Theoretically, I was satisfied. I flattered myself that I had limited my wants. But I was subject to irritation; I used to have morbid sterile hateful fits of hunger, of desire. Now I really am satisfied, because I can't think of anything better _.'_

 _Yours,_

 _Lucius Malfoy_ "

Hermione's eyes welled up with tears and she read the letter over again. And again. Covering her mouth, she did not even notice the tears that fell from her eyes as she silently memorized the letter.

"Hermione?" Molly asked, noticing the girl's tears. "Hermione, what's wrong? Did he say something bad?"

Pressing her lips together, the brunette shook her head and let her fingers fall to her clavicle. She tore her eyes away from the letter to look up at the older witch. "Oh, God, Molly," she wept as she smiled. "I have never…" She held the letter against her chest as she panted softly. Licking her lips, she asked, "Would you and Arthur like to join Lucius and me for dinner tomorrow night? Only, he asked if I could go and…" she looked back at the letter. "God, this is such a beautiful letter. It's like a work of art."

"May I see it?" Molly asked, holding out her hand for the letter.

Hermione passed it on to her. "I need parchment," she said. "And a quill and ink."

"In the desk, dear," Molly said absently as she read the letter. She frowned. "What's this? This bit he wrote about you making him a better person?"

"It's Henry James," Hermione explained as she pulled a leaf of parchment out of the desk and grabbed the ink bottle and a quill. "How does he know Henry James?" she asked as she looked at Molly. "Was he a wizard, too?"

Dumbfounded, Molly shook her head. "I don't know," she admitted. "I've never heard of him. But, Hermione… do you think it wise for Arthur and I to go with you to this? I don't know how well Arthur and Lucius will get along, and… where is he planning to take you?"

"I don't know," the girl confessed. "Knowing Lucius, though, it will be something classy. Perhaps high scale."

"Perhaps you should ask Harry and Ginny if they would like to go, then. I would hate for an argument between Arthur and Lucius to break out, or worse," Molly suggested.

Hermione paused in her writing to look at the older woman. "Ginny said that James is sick," she told her.

Molly waved the words away. "I've raised seven children. I will Floo Ginny and tell her that I will take care of James. It'll be fine," she said. "I do expect you to be on your best behaviour tomorrow evening. Wherever Lucius is taking you, you will be expected to present yourself like a lady of high class."

"I know," Hermione assured her as she finished her letter. Going back to the desk, she fished through the drawers for an envelope. Finding one, she folded her letter and slipped it in, sealing the letter with a tap of her wand. She sighed as she wrote Lucius's name upon the front of it and kissed it. She showed the letter to the owl, who still sat upon the chair. "Iris? This is for your master."

The owl took the letter from her and, with a flap of her wings, flew out of the Burrow towards the Manor.

Hermione watched as the owl disappeared upon the horizon. "Now I have to apologize to Ginny and ask her and Harry if they want to come."

* * *

 **Author's Notes** : Lots of love for cowgalnina and Elle Morgan-Black! Y'all are the best!

Also, many thanks to my readers who have favorited, followed, and reviewed this story. I'm having a lot of fun writing it and I hope y'all are enjoying this journey we're on. Plenty more to come, too! Lemme know what'cha think about that proposal!

The two poems Lucius recites (the one during the proposal and the one in the letter) are from William Blake and Henry James, respectively.


	9. Chapter 8

Hermione stood upon a pedestal inside Madam Malkin's. Ginny looked up at her with a dubious expression as Molly fussed.

"It looks perfect," the older woman preened as she gave the skirt of the dress Hermione wore a light tug.

Hermione frowned. "I don't know," she mumbled as she turned slightly to get a better look in the mirror.

"Mum, I love you, but are you sure this is something she should wear?" Ginny asked.

The dress was a dark grey in colour and had long sleeves and a high neck. There were intricate designs along the bodice, though, so, at least in that regard, it was… pretty. "Last time I went out with Lucius, I wore this really beautiful ballroom gown," Hermione commented.

"And now you're engaged. So, until you've married, you should keep your clothing conservative. This is fashionable," Molly assured her.

Ginny flicked her wand at the entrance, casting a Patronus in the process. "I may be wrong, but I have to disagree," she said. "Hermione, why don't you wear that royal blue gown you bought the other day?"

"That dress is far too revealing," Molly argued, her nose wrinkling. "Trust me, my dear."

Hermione's lips lifted a little. "Well, it isn't as if he hasn't seen it," she pointed out with a shrug.

Molly's eyes widened as Ginny giggled. "Yes, and I'm sure he would just love to let others see it, too," the matron snapped.

"Mum, Hermione has been dressing herself for years," Ginny said. "I think she should be able to pick out what she thinks will work."

The door to the shop opened and closed and the three witches turned to see who had entered as Madam Malkin reentered the room with Astoria right behind her. "Sweet Merlin, what are you wearing?" the younger witch asked as she pushed past Malkins.

Hermione shrugged as Madam Malkins observed her as well. "Are you sure you want to go this route, dear?" The lady asked.

"Yes," Molly said as three voices piped up, "No!"

Astoria approached the women and looked up at Hermione. "Mr. Malfoy wouldn't like this," she said.

"It's vintage," Molly insisted.

"No. I doubt even my great grandmother would wear this. It's not even fashionable for this day and age," Astoria argued. She looked at the sales lady. "Can we get her out of this and put her in something…better? Something a little more modern with a taste of vintage."

Malkins nodded and waved her wand. Hermione stood still as the ribbons and silk flew off of her and new silk replaced it. Hermione looked down at the ribbons, silk, and satin, feeling like Cinderella, as the wove about her waist to settle elegantly on her body. The gown that settled upon her was breathtaking. Looking up, Hermione gazed in the mirror.

The dress was simple enough and made with woven satin. It was off the shoulder and had a V-neck line with an A-line skirt that fell to the floor. The bodice laced up in the back and there was a ruby red bow at her waist. It fit Hermione perfectly. "How do I keep it from falling off my breasts?" she asked.

With a quick flick of her wand, Madam Malkin tightened the bodice. Hermione gasped as she lifted a hand to her neck. Her eyes widened slightly and she looked at the three women with her. "Well?" she asked.

Ginny grinned. "You look beautiful," she said, "and it matches your ring."

Molly gave her a kind smile. "I agree, but honestly, isn't it a bit showy?"

"No more that what she had worn to dinner a few nights ago," Astoria pointed out. "And I do think this will go lovely with those gloves you had worn, Hermione. The silver ones?"

Hermione smiled as she turned back to the mirror. "How much?" she asked Madam Malkins.

"Twenty Galleons," Madam Malkins stated.

The Muggleborn stared at the mirror and touched her hips. That wasn't so bad. She nodded. "Ginny? May I see my purse?"

She stepped down from the pedestal and went into the dressing room to change back into her normal clothes. When Hermione returned, the three ladies with her were standing by the counter as Madam Malkins placed the dress in a bag.

As they left the shop, Astoria looked curiously at the Muggleborn. "I hope you realize that Mr. Malfoy will expect more, particularly once you are married, but that is a wonderful evening gown for tonight," she said, smiling. "You're a beautiful woman, Hermione. Never be ashamed to flaunt it."

"Do you think it appropriate for her to do so when she is engaged to be married?" Molly asked, looking irritated.

Astoria raised her eyebrows. "I think it is expected. Mrs. Weasley, forgive me, but gentlemen enjoy flaunting their wealth, you know this. A dinner party should be met with flourish. And she should want women to be jealous of her and her beauty. It will keep them at bay when they see her standing beside Mr. Malfoy, for why would he want any of them when he has her?"

"Do you think women will try to…?"

Astoria cut Hermione off with a look. "Hermione, you're a sweet, lovely lady, but keep in mind, many women are vultures. If they think, for one moment, that they can steal your man, they will do whatever they can to try. And Mr. Malfoy is handsome, wealthy, and quite desirable, despite his questionable past."

Hermione felt her face fall and her eyes dropped to the ground. "So, why would he want me?" she asked, mostly to herself. "He could have any witch he wanted. Any Pureblood witch."

"Indeed," Astoria agreed. Hermione shot her a surprised look. The younger witch merely shrugged. "Think on it, Hermione. He could have any witch in the world, but it's you that he wants, he desires. He's spent this past month evaluating you, watching you. And I wouldn't put it past him to have researched you before he ever even attempted to pursue you. Do you want to know what I think? I think he chose you because you are intelligent, gifted, fiery, and beautiful. You can keep up with him and even compliment him."

"I know almost nothing about his world," Hermione said as she took the dress Madam Malkins handed her and followed the others out of the shop.

"You will in time," Astoria assured her.

"And in the meantime, I have to go and sit through a two-hour dinner with him," Ginny groused with a roll of her eyes. "You know Harry's going to be pissed, right, Hermione?"

The Muggleborn looked pleadingly at her friend. "My only other option would be to ask Ron, and I think we _both_ know how that would turn out."

Ginny took a deep breath. "Fine, but you owe me," she huffed. "You owe us both. And I best not hear you complain next time we go shopping."

"That reminds me," Astoria piped up. "We still have to go shopping for your new wardrobe. You're going to be Mr. Malfoy's wife and, as such, you will need to look the part."

"I'm not Narcissa," Hermione pointed out.

Ginny barked a laugh. "I doubt he would want a Narcissa lookalike," she said.

"Oh, and, Hermione, I wanted to tell you," Astoria said as they sat down at one of the tables. "As Mr. Malfoy's betrothed, I'm sure that means that he will ask you to join him for his son's wedding. I might need your help, too."

Hermione looked at the girl curiously as a waitress came to their table and they placed their orders. Once the waitress walked away, Hermione asked, "What is it? You know I know little about fashion…"

Astoria waved the statement away and shook her head. "Oh no, nothing like that. Draco's named Theodore Nott as his best man and, as such, Theo's wife is going to be one of my bridesmaids."

Hermione frowned. "So, you want me to help you with his wife?" She inquired. It took her less than a moment for the comment to sink in. "Luna!" She said with a gasp.

Her face softened as she smiled and shook her head. "That shouldn't be a problem. Luna is a bit eccentric, but she's tolerable and polite."

"'Eccentric' is putting it lightly," Astoria said. "It is impolite for a lady to speak ill of another, however, she's… I honestly don't know how you had dealt with her in the past."

Hermione glanced at Ginny and they shared a grin. "Well, she will teach you patience," the Muggleborn commented. "She is an endearing person, too."

Ginny nodded in agreement. "She does grow on you, but it takes practice and a sense of humour."

Astoria sighed. "Draco and I dined with them the other night and I swear he had attempted to hex her a few times, but stopped himself," the young witch explained. "She's pretty enough, of course. And she's obviously smart, or at least seems to be. I just don't know what Theo sees in her, though."

"She has a pure heart," Ginny said. "Even after everything that happened to her during the war, she still remains true to herself. She's kind and courageous. She's very unique and doesn't let others' opinions affect her. She's… above social norms."

Hermione nodded and took a sip of her butterbeer. "The Ministry had offered her a reward for her services in the war and she ended up donating it all towards helping to rebuild Hogwarts."

Astoria sighed. "So, will you help me with her?" She asked.

Hermione gave her a kind smile. "Of course I will."

(II)(II)

Lucius was sitting at his desk in his study, going through the accounts for his vineyard in Greece when his son walked into the room. He glanced up slightly to see his son walking to the wetbar to pour himself a drink. Looking back down at the paperwork, Lucius finished doing the math and raised a brow.

"Father, Astoria told me you were going to dinner with Granger and the Potters tonight," Draco drawled and Lucius heard him plop onto one of the armchairs.

Sighing, Lucius sat up and turned his attention to his son and heir. "That I am," he admitted. Glancing at the clock, he raised a single brow. "In fact, I do need to start getting ready now. I am to meet them at Hermione's loft in London."

Draco frowned. "So, you're going to have dinner with Potter," he said, not quite believing it.

"Mr. Potter is one of Hermione's oldest and dearest friends," Lucius explained as he stood and walked to the bar. "As you should know. If I am to marry her, I will need to be able to gain his trust, or, at the very least, his respect."

"Hate to break it to you, old man, but you can try all you want," Draco commented lazily. "You'll never gain his trust or respect. Believe me. I tried when I first met him. And again after the war when I requested his help to look into some shrink within our London apothecary."

Lucius's face soured as he changed his mind on brandy and picked up his decanter of firewhiskey instead. He hated it when his son called him an "old man", especially considering that he really wasn't that old. "Then an accord," Lucius surmised as he recapped the decanter and turned back to face his son. "Whether he respects me or not, I will marry Hermione, so he will have to learn how to accept it. And, given her purity, I intend to breach the possibility of bondage with her."

Draco's eyebrows raised. "'Bondage'? That's a little… kinky, even for you… Wait, I don't want to know."

Lucius raised his eyes. "Not that kind of bondage, son," he said a little impatiently. "I'm talking of the same thing you and Miss Greengrass will be doing on Wednesday. I want to be bound to Hermione. For us to be united in the most sacred, unbreakable way possible."

Draco sat up and stared at his father. "Are you mad?" he demanded. "Merlin's sagging bollocks, Father! I thought you were marrying her just for the publicity! You know if you bond yourself to her and she to you, that means forever, right? You'll never be able to be rid of her. You can't even kill the bint if you grow bored with her!"

"Call her another name and I will hex your mouth shut," Lucius warned. "I have no interest in killing her, not now, not ever. Besides, bonding with her will only make our marriage more insured from the vultures within the Ministry. By bonding with her, they will know that I have changed, hopefully for the better."

"But you haven't changed," Draco argued, "except to turn blood-traitor. Father, society isn't going -."

"Society is changing," Lucius interrupted. "Hermione has been able to push so many bills through already, particularly to do with the treatment of house elves. Your friend, Theodore Nott, married a Half-Blood, the first time a Nott has done so in centuries, and not just any Half-Blood -."

"He married a fucking loon," Draco grumbled as he downed his drink. "But at least she has some Wizarding parentage. Granger's got none."

" _Has_ none," Lucius corrected. "You are the heir to the noble and ancient House of Malfoy, boy. Use proper English. Also, I have it on good authority that Hermione has ancestry that include knights, and, perhaps, even royalty."

Draco placed his glass on the side table and stood. "So, you're living your namesake predecessor's dream? I don't know if she is of actual royal descent, but, even if she is, I highly doubt she gains anything from it."

"Who said I wanted anything?" Lucius asked. "We have enough wealth to last us far beyond the next twelve generations. And, if I've raised you correctly, then that trend will continue."

"If you've raised me correctly? Does that even matter anymore? You're toying with the idea of bonding with a Muggleborn! When you do that, it won't matter how many galleons we have in the bank. We'll still be branded as blood traitors," Draco pressed.

Lucius tilted his head. "You're about to marry Astoria Greengrass. As kind and beautiful as she is, as Slytherin as she and her family are, the Greengrasses are blood traitors, which means that you will be, too, regardless of who I marry. Besides, as I've said before, the world is changing," he said as he sat in his chair and nursed his whiskey. "I recently read in the Prophet that the Minister is encouraging the cross-breeding of Purebloods and Muggleborns. When you think about it, there truly are so few of us. I think that was where the Dark Lord was wrong."

"I remember the Dark Lord had mocked the notion, and many people, our people, laughed," Draco commented.

Lucius stared into the fire. "They won't laugh when our bloodlines die out. In fact, it has already begun. Black? Rosier? Greengrass? Gaunt? And that's just a start. If Mr. and Mrs. Nott do not produce male heirs, that name will die out as well. Mr. Goyle and his family, too, if he doesn't marry. In fact, I do believe the Crabbe family has died out as well, since Brutus is spending a life sentence in Azkaban and Vincent died during the war," he said. He looked at his son. "You are my only heir. If I am lucky enough to actually marry Hermione, I may just be able to produce another child, or two."

" _Two_?!" Draco shouted, staring at his father, flabbergasted. "You do realize you are fifty years old, right? That means that by the time they graduate Hogwarts, if they aren't born Squibs, you'll be well on your way into your seventies!"

Lucius met his son's eyes and lifted a brow. "Is there a problem? If my memory is correct, you wanted siblings."

"Yeah, when I was younger," Draco spat.

Lucius shrugged and glanced down at his snifter. "It is unfortunate your mother can no longer reproduce," he murmured idly. "Perhaps if I had wandered more, hm? Extramarital sex, and illegitimate pregnancies, but then you'd never be able to claim them as your siblings."

Draco wrinkled his nose in disgust. "That is one thing I never wanted to hear about. You and sex," he said. "And 'wandered more'? What is that supposed to mean?"

Lucius gave a small, tight, humourless smile as he placed his snifter on his end table and stood. "I have to get ready for supper," he said as he picked up his cane and began walking towards the door.

"Are you seriously telling me that you cheated on my mother?" Draco asked, glaring at his father.

Lucius rolled his eyes. "Don't pretend that you are naive, son," he scolded. "Your mother and I hadn't shared our marital bed in years. In fact, you were here that day I caught her with that blighter in our bed, so don't pretend to be ignorant."

"How can you be angry with her when you were doing the same damn thing?" Draco demanded, following his father out of the study and up the stairs.

Lucius whirled on his son. "The difference is, I never brought a bird home, and I, certainly, never invited her to our bed."

"And yet you court Granger in our home. Something tells me that if she wanted to, you would bring her to your bed, too," Draco accused.

Lucius stopped. "I'm no longer married, and this is my home. So, yes. If Hermione wanted to, I could, and would, bring her to my bed," he admitted. He paused for a moment. "Then again, maybe not. Since we aren't married and her purity means that we can bond, then, it would be foolish of me to take her into my bed at this time." He frowned and looked at his son. "It's priorities, my boy. I made many mistakes both before and during my marriage with your mother. Mistakes I don't intend to repeat."

"A crup can't change its spots," Draco told him. He sighed. "What makes you think you'll be any more loyal to Granger if you couldn't even be loyal to my mother? The moment Granger turns you away, you'll just jump into another slag's bed."

Lucius shrugged. "We'll be bonded," he said simply. "I didn't have to be loyal to your mother. However, once Hermione and I are bonded, there will be no need for anyone else." He looked at his son. "You'll see. Soon you and Astoria will be bound to one another as well, and you will find that no other woman will do for you."

"I already feel that way," Draco said as they stopped at the door to the master bedroom.

The older Malfoy nodded and patted his son's shoulder. "Then you understand my desire for Hermione."

"Your desire for Granger? Father, just last month you simply wanted to bang her. Now you're talking about marriage," Draco said.

Lucius smirked. "You have yourself to thank for it, too. I never would have thought of marriage had you not suggested it."

"But, I didn't," Draco protested.

"Keep telling yourself that, son."

(III)(III)

"Harry? What are you wearing?" Hermione asked as she opened the door to allow her two best friends inside.

Harry glanced at his robes in confusion as Ginny rolled her eyes. "Robes," he answered. "You told me to dress nice. So, I dressed nice." He looked at her. "What are you wearing? You look like you're going to a ball."

Ginny gave Hermione a tired look. "I tried to explain it to him," she commented, looking annoyed.

Hermione shook her head. "I said 'dress robes'," she told him. "We're going to this really expensive place. We have to look our best."

"I am not wearing dress robes just to sit down to eat!" Harry argued. "I don't even want to go to this thing."

"We're going," Ginny said firmly. "Hermione wants us to because it's important that we get to know her future husband better."

Harry rubbed his forehead and pushed his glasses up. "I still can't believe you said, 'yes,' Hermione. The man is an ex-Death Eater, for Merlin's sake. Nevermind that he's old enough to be your father."

Hermione groaned. "I really wish people will stop pointing out his age!" she spat, as she turned away from him. "Wear the robes you have, I don't care." She glared at him. "But I am going to marry him, Harry Potter. I love him and he loves me. And I'm sorry. I am so sorry that I wanted my best friend, my _brother_ , to try to become friends with my future husband. We've been through everything together. Ever since we first met. I helped you get through your classes. I helped you fight Voldemort over and over again! I stayed, Harry. By your side, front and center. I have always had your back. For _once_ I wish you had mine!"

"That's not fair, Hermione," Harry responded. "I have been there for you. Who was there for you when Ron left? Who went with you to restore your parents' memories? Hell, I even stood up for that bastard in court during his trial! I am there for you. I am always there for you. That doesn't mean I have to agree with this. It's just… something about this seems off. Don't you see it? Lucius Malfoy is the biggest blood purist. Why the hell is he suddenly interested in you? Don't get me wrong. You're beautiful and smart, but Jesus, Hermione, men like him don't just change overnight."

They looked up when they heard a rap at the door. Hermione pushed past Harry and grabbed the handle, but he grabbed it as well and stopped her. They stared at one another. "Let me answer it," she growled, her eyes narrowing.

"Just think about it, Hermione," he said softly. "You're the closest thing I have to a sister and I love you. I just don't want to see you get hurt."

She set her jaw. "I won't," she assured him. "Now, please."

He kissed her forehead and took a step back. As she opened the door, her face lit up as her eyes met Lucius's. He returned her smile. "Good evening, beautiful," he greeted.

Her smile broadened and she stood up on her toes to kiss him. "Good evening," she replied. "Please, come in."

He followed her into the loft and nodded to the other two Gryffindors. "Mr. and Mrs. Potter, it's a pleasure to see you this evening."

"Is it?" Harry asked, folding his arms.

Lucius frowned. His eyes glanced at Ginny and his smile returned. "Well, you look lovely, Mrs. Potter," he said. "Did you do something different with your hair?"

"You know, Mr. Malfoy, they say that flattery will get you anywhere," she replied. "I thought I would try curling it, but, well, it was being rather stubborn."

"It looks lovely the way it is," he assured her. "And it's Lucius, if you don't mind."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Are we going to go eat or not?" he asked.

"Tactful as always, Mr. Potter," Lucius said cooly. He pulled out a bouquet of daisies from his robes. "These are for you, Hermione."

The brunette's smile widened as she accepted the flowers. "Thank you. Let me just go put these in a vase real quick, shall I?"

He nodded and watched as she grabbed Ginny's hand and ran into the kitchen. His smile faded as he glanced back at Harry Potter, who was glaring at him. Lifting his head up, he watched as the women teetered about the kitchen. "I am quite aware of your dislike for me, Mr. Potter," he said, keeping his voice soft so the women wouldn't overhear.

"Yeah? Well, know this, too. I don't know what game you're playing, but I'm watching you," Harry warned. "I know all about everything you've done with her."

Lucius threw him a grin. "Well, I hope not _every_ thing," he said, tauntingly.

"Why you -!"

"Careful, Mr. Potter," Lucius warned. "We wouldn't want Hermione or Mrs. Potter thinking that we aren't trying to get along."

"As if you care what Hermione thinks!" the bespectacled wizard hissed.

Lucius lifted his brows. "Quite the contrary. I care a great deal about what Hermione thinks. She will be my wife, after all."

Harry took a step towards the older wizard, glaring up at him. "You may have everyone else fooled, including Hermione, but I know you."

Lucius turned his attention fully to Harry. His frown deepened and he raised a single eyebrow. "No. You don't," he said. "You only _think_ you do."

Hermione and Ginny reentered the room, laughing about… something. Hermione approached Lucius and, smile dropping, looked from him to Harry. "What's going on?" she asked.

"Nothing important, my dear," Lucius replied as he lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. "I do fear I failed to inform you of how beautiful you look this evening."

Her smile widened. "Why thank you! I will have to remember to give Astoria my gratitude when I see her again," she said.

"Are we ready to leave then?" Lucius asked as he glanced from her to the Potters who were whispering heatedly at one another. He stifled a smirk as he had a good guess of what their argument was about. Tonight seemed to promise to be interesting.

(IV)(IV)

If Hermione had thought the last place Lucius had taken her to was extravagant, she had been sorely mistaken. The restaurant Lucius was escorting her into was beautiful. The host who greeted them was dressed in formal robes and gloves and carried himself with an air of high breeding. Hermione covered her lips with her fingers to hide the smile that threatened to appear on her face. "High breeding"? Where on earth did that idea come from?

The entrance of the restaurant was decorated with a pair of ferns and a black podium. To the left of the podium was a large dark wood door that had decorative glass in the middle of it. As the host opened the door, light from the main dining area flooded the room.

Lucius gently guided Hermione to stand aside as he gave a nod of his head to Harry. "After you," he offered.

Harry's eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he followed the host as Ginny lightly held his arm.

Hermione smiled kindly up at Lucius as she let him lead her into the dining hall after her friends. Her eyes widened at the sight of the restaurant. Circular tables draped with white linen and decorated with white flowers were scattered in an intricate pattern while white chairs circled each table. Fellow diners sat at these tables and were also dressed formally.

For the most part, the two couples were ignored as they were lead by the host to their seating. Those who did look at them, quickly averted their attention when either Lucius, Hermione, Harry, or Ginny looked at them. The two couples simply ignored them for they were quite used to the stares, for various reasons.

The host led them into a private section of the restaurant. While it was still open, it was more secluded with glittering curtains that, upon closer inspection, held small balls of light. Hermione thought they were perhaps fairies, but she wasn't certain.

As they approach the circular table draped in white cloth and decorated with soft candlelight, Lucius and Harry assisted their respective companions into their chairs and seated themselves as well. Wine was poured and Hors d'oeuvres were served. Silence fell upon the table as everyone ate.

Unable to stand the silence for much longer, Hermione piped up, "Oh, Lucius, I thought you would like to know about that house elf I had told you of earlier this week."

He looked up and sipped his wine. "And?" He asked politely.

She smiled. "Well, his master was charged with negligence and domestic abuse and he was rehomed," she explained, her smile faltering slightly.

"How is he taking it?" the Pureblood prodded as he speared some asparagus.

She shrugged. "I think he's all right, but I can't be sure. I do know that people are working with him to help him get on his feet."

"I'm sure he'll be ok," Ginny assured her, though she didn't look too certain herself.

Hermione sighed. "I wonder sometimes, though. I mean, I know what I'm doing is right, but…"

Lucius place his hand over hers, drawing her attention. She looked at him curiously as he gently closed his hand over hers. "You shouldn't doubt yourself, darling," he said. "The elf may not see it now, but I assure you, he is better than he was before, especially if what you've told me of this case is true. You did the right thing, and you should be commended for your work."

"How hypocritical of you to say," Harry growled as he took a sip of his own wine.

Lucius glanced at the young saviour. "I beg your pardon?" he asked, tilting his head curiously.

Harry pressed his lips together, frowning. He gave Hermione an apologetic look. "I do agree with Malfoy that you shouldn't doubt yourself, Hermione. You're brilliant and the work you've done for the elves, as well as other creatures, is highly commendable. However," he turned his attention to Lucius and his frown returned, "you have spent years fighting against things like elven rights. What's with the sudden change of heart, Malfoy? What's your angle in pursuing Hermione? You think you can charm her with fancy meals? Did you think inviting Ginny and me to this place will somehow attone for the past and the part you played in an attempt to destroy people like Hermione?"

"Harry," Ginny scolded as she and Hermione glared at him.

"It's quite alright, Ginny," Lucius said coolly as he took another sip of his wine. "I completely understand where Mr. Potter is coming from and he has a right to ask his questions."

Hermione squeezed his hand. "No, he doesn't. Not when we are having a nice meal." She threw Harry another glare.

Lucius smiled kindly at her. "Au contraire, my love. Now is just as good a time as any and it's much better that we get this nastiness out of the way so we may enjoy our evening," he told her. "Let me see if I can answer Mr. Potter's questions satisfactory… 'Why the sudden change?' Let me ask you, Mr. Potter. You saw the state of my home during the war as well as my own state during my trial. Not to go into too much detail, but the Dark Lord doesn't take kindly on those who fail him. I had failed in my task to gain the prophecy. Because of this failure, I almost lost my son. I did lose my wand and, eventually, my wife."

"You blame him for your divorce?" Harry demanded, aghast.

Lucius shook his head. "Not at all. I blame my own follies for my divorce, Mr. Potter. However, that doesn't mean that I can ignore the facts that have been presented to me. Here was a man, or what was left of a man, who cared little for the lives of his followers. I was under house arrest. I had no wand in which to raise against him if I had so chosen, and I highly doubt any member of your precious Order would have accepted me should I have sought help. Not that I would lower myself in such a way as to crawl and beg. I had my wife and child to think about. I needed to ensure their safety before I moved against him. So, as I played my part, I kept a watchful eye on the events as they unfolded."

"To make sure you put yourself in the best possible position when it was all over," the bespectacled man reasoned.

The blond shrugged and became quiet for a moment as the server removed their plates and replaced them with more food. He stabbed a fork into his salad and took a bite, chewing and swallowing before he answered Harry. "I'm not quite certain what you mean by 'the best possible position', Mr. Potter. For all I knew, if the Dark Lord had won, I would continue on as I had until it reached the point where he killed me or I died from another affliction. As far as I knew, once the Order had won, I had every chance of spending the rest of my life in Azkaban. As it is, at the moment, the only thing I have is my wealth. Just look around you. There isn't a person in this facility, aside from perhaps Hermione, who wouldn't prefer to see me bound and gagged, or worse, Kissed. They either fear me, hate me, or both, and not a single person understands what I went through when the Dark Lord lived in my home."

"Do you expect me to feel sorry for you?" Harry asked coldly.

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "No. I don't want anything from you, Mr. Potter. Despite what you might think, I did not ask Hermione to bring you along because I hoped to curry favour from you."

Harry frowned, staring at the man loathingly. "Then why did you?" He questioned.

Lucius gazed at him curiously and cast a glance at Hermione before looking at the dark-haired wizard again. "I thought that was simple enough for even you to understand, Mr. Potter." He looked at the witch again. "Does he not know about your education?"

"You mean that bullshit about old traditions and customs? Yeah, I know about it," Harry growled.

"Then what is it that you don't understand?" Lucius inquired, confused. "I wanted to spend an evening with my new fiancée. In order to do that, she needs to have a chaperone with her. Since Molly is currently unavailable…" he looked at the Muggleborn again, frowning. "Do I really have to spell it out?"

Hermione sighed, her eyes narrowing at Harry. "Is it really going to be like this all evening? Can we not have a nice evening, just the four of us? You promised you would try. Lucius has been nothing but courteous to you since he arrived at my flat. The least you can do is show the same respect."

"Hermione…"

"No, Harry," she cut him off angrily. "I have been there for you through it all. I helped you study throughout Hogwarts, defeat Voldemort, and even helped you practice during your Auror training. I love you, would die for you. You're the closest I have ever come to having a brother."

"Why do you think I'm so against this, Hermione?" he asked desperately, his own temper rising. Hermione cast a quick Muffliato over their table as his voice rose and he continued, "This is Lucius fucking Malfoy! I told you when I read about this whole fiasco in the paper: I don't condone it. I can't! I'm not even going to get into the fact that he's old enough to be your father, or that he is Draco Malfoy's father. Just the mere fact that he was a Death Eater! And not just any Death Eater, but one of Voldemort's closest supporters. Not only that, but we were twelve years old when we met him, and what did he do? He gave Ginny a cursed diary that nearly killed her! It did possess her. Do you have any idea what that's like? To be possessed by Tom-fucking-Riddle? You spout loyalty, but where is it now?"

Lucius felt his blood boiling and he wanted nothing more than to hex the black-haired brat, but he stayed his wand. Biting down his own impulse, he glanced at Hermione, watching as she glared at the boy. "How dare you!" she hissed. She threw her glass of wine into his face and stood up. Lucius stood as well. Seeing she had gotten Ginny a bit, Hermione gave the girl an apologetic look. "Sorry, Gin," she said before straightening her gown and turning her attention to Lucius. "This was a mistake. For that, I apologize. If you will excuse me, I need to go to the ladies' room for a moment."

As she turned on her heel and began walking away, Ginny stood up as well and rushed after her.

(V)(V)

Ginny found Hermione in the restroom, sitting on an elegant couch with her hands hiding her face. Grabbing a cloth hand towel, she sat beside her friend and handed the towel to her. She then placed a reassuring arm around her shoulders and hugged her.

"He's such a git sometimes," the ginger haired witch said softly.

"I don't understand it, Gin," Hermione said, still sobbing. "I've done everything, sacrificed everything for him! And he just… just… I don't understand why he can't let me be happy?"

"He's just being Harry," the younger witch reasoned. "You know him. 'Have to save the world.' I don't think he's ever really gotten past that, and with Voldemort gone… I think he's always expecting the worst. The next 'Big Bad', or 'Dark Lord', to come along."

Hermione looked at her friend and frowned. "Lucius is not a 'Dark Lord'. He has no interest in that life anymore," she said.

Ginny nodded. "I'm sure, but Harry doesn't know that. I mean, he barely knows the guy, and what he does know of him isn't really all that great."

"You should see him, Gin," Hermione told her. "When we're in the manor searching for his sister, or going out to eat? And you should have seen him at the game with my parents."

"Mum told me about that," Ginny admitted. "Did he really hit Draco with his cane for calling you the 'M' word?"

Hermione chuckled through her tears and nodded. "He also threatened to take Draco out of his will," she said with a grin.

Ginny stared at her in astonishment. "He didn't!" she squeaked.

"Yes, he did, and I wanted to kiss him for it," Hermione said, brightening up.

"Hell, I want to kiss him for it," the younger witch stated, sitting back.

Hermione smiled as she sat back as well and gazed at the stalls. "I still can't believe Harry said that to me. How could he, Gin? After everything I've done…"

Ginny was at a loss of words for a moment. "Voldemort really did a number on him," she said.

"He did a number on Lucius, too, you know," Hermione told her. "I mean, Lucius doesn't really talk about it much, and any time the subject is breached, he clams up or changes the subject. Or he gets defensive."

"Men," Ginny complained.

Hermione agreed with a nod. "You said it."

Ginny glanced at her friend and grinned. "You do realize we left Harry and Lucius alone. Not exactly the smartest decision on our part."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Yeah… We should get back."

(VI)(VI)

Lucius returned to his seat and, picking up his glass, took another sip of his wine. He watched the young man before him as Harry picked up his napkin and wiped his face. Their waiter came to them and offered Harry another napkin, which the wizard accepted with a "Thanks."

Once the waiter left, Harry gazed at Lucius. For a while, the two simply stared at one another. Though he neither showed it nor said anything, the older wizard was fascinated by the myriad of emotions that played clearly over the younger man's face. He had known that Hermione cared for the man. He had listened as she told him of their stint during the Second War. Camping, hiding, risking their lives for a cause they believed in. Through her tales, he had come to respect the young man. While he didn't believe there would ever be anything even close to resembling friendship between the two of them, he had hoped, fleetingly, that there would be a mutual sort of respect there. He wondered what sort of impact this night would have on the future of his relationship with Hermione, for he was growing rather fond of her.

It was a few more minutes before the ladies returned. As they approached, Lucius stood and nodded graciously at Hermione. "Are you all right, my love?" he asked her gently.

She nodded and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm fine," she told him as she sat down. Lucius sat as well as Hermione looked at her plate. "This is some of the best food I have eaten, though I do believe the elves in the manor do a much better job."

Lucius chuckled. "It is nice to give them a break every once in a while, though, isn't it?"

"I doubt Draco is giving them any sort of 'break'," she commented, drawing another chuckle from him.

The rest of the evening continued with idle chatter between the two, with Ginny chiming in every once in a while. Harry and Hermione pointedly ignored one another.

When the couples returned to Hermione's flat, Lucius placed a chaste kiss upon her lips. "Shall I see you tomorrow?" he asked.

She grinned flirtatiously. "Why, of course! We are going to a wedding, are we not?"

"What?" Harry asked suddenly. "What wedding?"

Hermione glared at him as Ginny rolled her eyes and shoved the wizard into the flat. "Draco and Astoria, you prat," the ginger haired witch snapped. "Give them some space."

Lucius watched as Ginny closed the door, leaving him and Hermione alone in the hallway. "Given what Potter said this evening, I am astonished that she trusts me so willingly," he said, as he clasped Hermione's hands in his own.

"You know, I don't think she actually does," Hermione mused, looking at the door. She turned her attention to him. "But she does trust me, and I think she wants me to be happy."

"Do I make you happy?" he asked, gazing down at her honey coloured eyes.

"'They say a person needs just three things to be truly happy in this world: someone to love, something to do, and something to hope for,'" she said as she leaned into him.

He raised an eyebrow. "And?"

She giggled and lifted her hands to rest on his shoulders. "Well, I love you, so that one is covered. With us getting married, I do think the rest is covered. So, yes, you do make me happy."

He kissed her forehead and met her eyes again. "I do apologize for what had happened this evening. That was never my intent."

She reached up and brushed his jaw with the backs of her fingers. "What happened this evening had nothing to do with you, Lucius. It's between Harry and me. If anyone should apologize, it should be me. I knew it was a mistake inviting him, but I did it anyway. I had hoped…"

She trailed off, her eyes falling to his chest as she sighed.

Unsure of what to do, Lucius wrapped his arms around her and held her tight against him. He rested his cheek atop her head and closed his eyes, breathing in the gentle scent of her shampoo. He felt as though he should say something, to offer her some words of comfort. He racked his brain, thinking.

"I can't begin to understand how your friendship with Mr. Potter works," he said. "However, I do think his intentions, though short-sighted, are honest enough." She looked up at him in surprise. He shrugged. "He's a Gryffindor, and the Saviour of our world. You have told me before that the two of you are like siblings. If that is true, there isn't a doubt in my mind that he probably thinks he needs to protect you."

She sighed again and glanced at the door. "I know," she admitted. "I just wish he wouldn't. He has this habit of forgetting that I can take care of myself."

"I'm sure he knows that, however, sometimes, habits can be hard to break. Particularly when you've come to rely on someone always being there," he told her. "Remember how easily it was for the Dark Lord to trick Potter into 'saving' Sirius Black? If he sees you as his sister, then, aside from his family, you are all he has. He may fear that he is losing you."

"He's not, though," she said. "No matter what, I will always be there for him. I shouldn't have to sacrifice my own happiness."

He shook his head. "You don't have to. Just give him time, darling. Tonight was too soon," he assured her. "We had courted for a month before I proposed, and we still have the meeting with Mrs. Nott. It will be a few months before we are actually wed. Give him time to come to terms with this. Let him see how happy you are, how right this is."

He took her hand into his and lifted it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. "I will see you tomorrow, my love. For now, I bid you a good night. May your dreams be filled with joy and happiness."

She grinned. "Don't worry. They'll be filled with you, so they will be."

He smiled softly at her. He was mildly surprised when she reached up and kissed him. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her soft lips upon his. He didn't let the kiss linger, however. "Sleep well, my love," he whispered against her lips before releasing her and taking a step back.

They looked at one another for a moment more until she turned to her door. Glancing back at him, she gave him a smile, blew him a kiss, and, opening the door, she slipped inside.

He watched as she closed it behind her and listened as she locked it. Licking his lips, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. What was happening to him? All the years he had spent with Narcissa, he had never felt this way. He had never even come close to doing the things he was doing with Hermione. But then, he had never known a woman like Hermione, either.

Opening his eyes, he glanced at her door once more before turning on his heel and departing. He needed a cold shower and a finger or two of brandy.


	10. Chapter 9

Lucius stood before his mirror, fixing his cufflinks. His hair was pulled back with a cord and ribbon which hung down his back. His attire was meticulous, each item of clothing and jewelry was an indication of his wealth and prestige. Not that he had much prestige left, but he was a proud man and refused to relinquish that which had been instilled in him from birth.

He knew his son was currently in his own room, also getting ready for the ceremony. Glancing up, Lucius looked in the mirror and analyzed himself, checking over his robes and jewelry.

Hearing his bedroom door open and close, his eyes glanced in the mirror at the door. He frowned. "Why are you here?" he asked.

He was mildly surprised she had shown up to the wedding. Though he knew she loved Draco with all her heart, he also knew she highly opposed the bride. While they had never married anything other than Purebloods, the Greengrasses sympathized with Muggles and were known to befriend Muggleborns. Narcissa took this as an insult and had often spoken ill of Eugene and his family. Though he had befriended Eugene during their Hogwarts days and continued to correspond with him later in life, even Lucius had never cared for the Greengrasses and their treacherous ideals.

The beautiful witch, with her long blonde hair, approached him. "Why do you think, Lucius?" she asked, raising her eyebrow. "Our son is getting married today."

He pressed his lips together and turned to face her. "No. I mean, why are you here? In my room. I do not recall giving you permission to enter."

"It was my room too for the better part of the last twenty years," she cooly reminded him as she gave the room a disgusted once over.

So, she didn't like the changes he had made to it, did she? His eyes narrowed. "Yes," he agreed. "Was. Once we signed the papers, it ceased being yours. So, my question remains."

Her cerealan blue eyes glanced up and down his person and she lifted her head a little. "I read the most scandalizing article in the Prophet. When I questioned Draco of it, he seemed as though he didn't want to speak of it. Tell me, Lucius. Are the rumours true?"

"You know better than anyone that you shouldn't believe everything you read in the Prophet, Narcissa. Given I haven't the slightest idea which article, or rumour, you are referring to, perhaps you care to enlighten me," he said as he walked around her to the vanity table. He dabbed a bit of cologne on his neck.

"The Mudblood," she hissed. "According to the Prophet, you have turned blood traitor and are courting a Mudblood who is the same age as Draco. Not only that, but she is none other than that pesky little girl who helped defeat the Dark Lord!"

Lucius glared at her. "You would be wise to not use that language in my presence."

Her eyes widened as she stared at him in surprise."So it's true!" she breathed. "You are turning your back on everything! Society, tradition, your family… For what? Is this some sort of measure you're taking to get back at me? To try to make me jealous or come crawling back to you? I will say, Lucius, I am not amused."

"Indeed," he said. "Though I do applaud you in your poor attempt in trying to make this about you. I happen to recall finding you in this very bedroom, on my bed, in the throes of heated love making with a man much, much younger than you."

"Not twenty five years!" she hissed. "And in case _you_ have forgotten, dear husband, that only happened because you had all but vanished from this bedroom. Sleeping in your study and drinking your weight in firewhiskey."

He chuckled. "So, if I had decided to sleep in here, you would have simply gone elsewhere for your kicks? Also, remember, you lost the right to call me 'husband' the day we divorced."

"As if you hadn't!" she screeched. "I know you slept with other women during our marriage, and don't you dare try to deny it."

"I won't," he said as he walked to his wet bar and poured himself a finger of brandy.

"So, why a Mudblood? And why _her_?" she asked as she followed him to the fireplace. "You do remember that she is responsible for my sister's death."

"No, she isn't," Lucius argued, looking at his ex-wife in consternation. "That responsibility rests solely on Bellatrix's shoulders, not Hermione's. And I do recall asking you not to use that word."

Narcissa stared at him as he sat down in his armchair. "What are your intentions with this girl? You do remember that she went to school with our son? Was in his class and outscored him in every class they were in together? She also works in the Ministry and is passing laws that go against everything we hold dear. All your hard work for the past thirty years is going down the drain, and for what?"

"Actually, I'm funding much of the laws that she is having passed, though I doubt she knows just how much I am giving to them," he mused as he sipped his drink. "Do sit down, Narcissa."

She frowned. He could see she was trying to figure out his motives and the reasoning behind his about face. While he wasn't willing to give anything up to her, a part of him did worry what it might mean if she did learn of them. Of course, there wasn't really much she could do except try to sabotage his relationship with Hermione. If she did that, then he could easily take her to court and regain some of that which he had lost to her. He inwardly smirked. Her jealous nature could work to his advantage.

He mentally sighed to himself. Lucius knew she was incredibly jealous of any woman who gave him so much as a side glance. Though why, he mentally grumbled, she would give a damn when some other bloke was currently porking her, he couldn't fathom.

"She's the one, isn't she?" Narcissa asked suddenly, breaking his thoughts.

He did not react, just glanced up at her curiously. "The one?" he repeated, seemingly half interested.

"Yes, Lucius. 'The one,'" she said in annoyance. "The girl. The little bint that you were agonizing over before our divorce. Always in your study, mumbling to yourself over meals… I never could figure out what you meant. When you caught me in bed with Enrique, I couldn't figure out why you, of all people, would suggest a divorce. To damage your family name so. The divorce was nothing compared to this, though. You're going to ruin the Malfoy name. Blood traitors. It will take generations to claw your way out of that hole you've dug."

Lucius hated her. He hated how she had managed to uncover everything he had worked hard for. He had been so careful, so… "I don't know what you're talking about, Narcissa," he said, keeping a straight face and showing no emotion.

"Bullshit!" she snapped. "Don't think I didn't see you every morning and evening. You would come into the dining room with that blasted paper and pretend to read while eating. When, in reality, you were fawning over that little Mudblood's pictures in the paper. Then, as soon as you were finished eating, you would return to your study, no doubt to masturbate to that filth!"

Lucius's eyes flashed. "I have asked you to refrain from using that word. You will do so or you will leave," he said, keeping his voice calm and steady.

"You really would ruin our son's wedding by forcing me out?" she asked, her eyes blazing.

"No," he told her. "But you will. Our son's soon-to-be wife adores Hermione. Hearing you besmirch the woman would break her heart."

Narcissa's eyes widened as she took a step back. "What happened to you?" she asked. "Where did the Lucius I knew go? That Lucius would _never_ have approved our son marrying a blood traitor, which you know her whole family is. That Lucius wouldn't even consider being with a Mudblood as he knows such a thing would be treasonous to his own family and values."

And Lucius hated her because he knew she was right. In fact, a part of himself hated what he was doing: wooing a Muggleborn to marry her and approving of his son's engagement to a Greengrass. He looked at her curiously. "That Lucius nearly had his whole family destroyed by the Dark Lord," he mused. "That Lucius tried to convince his son that being a Death Eater was a wondrous and noble thing to the point that his son wanted to be one as well. I have no desire to be that Lucius anymore."

She straightened up and gazed at him haughtily. "No matter how hard you try, Lucius, you will never change," she said.

He looked at her curiously. "I believe I already have. I've donated to several of Hermione's causes, opened up a public Magical park, freed my house elves, and I'm engaged to marry none other than Hermione Granger. While I will admit that I still have a long way to go, I do believe I am on the right track."

"You're marrying a girl half your age. A girl that you would have disinherited your own son for even thinking of courting," she said, dismissively. "But let's not forget her wonderful connections. Have you managed to make friends with the Boy Wonder yet?" She raised an eyebrow as he glowered at her. "I thought not. Don't think she will remain unaware as to your true intentions of marrying her."

"And what are my 'true' intentions, _dear_ ," he growled snidely. "Please, do enlighten me."

"Why don't you tell me?" she challenged, her eyes flashing.

He rolled his eyes. "I don't have time for this," he said. "Our son is getting married today and I still have to retrieve Hermione from her flat." He walked to his bedroom door and stopped. Turning back to look at his ex-wife, he added, "And do try to be on your best behaviour. I would hate to see our son's wedding ruined. I doubt Draco would forgive you if you did anything."

(II)(II)

"Shouldn't you be at your parents' home getting ready?" Hermione asked dubiously as she watched the young witch pace her floor.

Astoria walked to a chair at the little dining room table and sat upon it. Putting her face in her hands, she sighed. "I'm so nervous!" she admitted. She looked up at the Muggleborn through her fingers. "It's actually happening. I'm getting married!"

Ginny joined the girl as she sat in the chair next to hers. "You'll be fine," she assured her. "I was scared crazy on my wedding day, too, but it turned out alright in the end. As soon as I saw Harry standing at that altar, I knew everything was going to be ok."

"How did you know, though?" the blonde asked, still unsure.

Hermione pulled another chair around the table to join the two girls. She took Astoria's hands in her own and made eye contact with her. "Do you love Draco?" she asked.

Astoria nodded. "More than anything."

"And I know he loves you," Hermione told her. "That's all that matters. You are a wonderful, kind, beautiful person, Astoria. Both on the inside and out. Not to mention, you have the patience of a saint."

"Yeah, I mean, look at who you are marrying," Ginny agreed, drawing a soft giggle from Astoria.

"I suppose one would need a lot of patience to be marrying a Malfoy, huh?" the young witch stated. She looked at Hermione and smiled. "And one day soon, we will be in-laws, won't we?"

Hermione shrugged. "That's the plan," she said.

Astoria leaned back and took a deep breath. "We're going to bind ourselves to one another," she told her friends.

Ginny's eyes widened. "What?"

Hermione frowned. "Bind yourselves? What do you mean?" she questioned curiously.

"You'll see," Astoria told her. "But, basically, Draco and I are going to dedicate our lives to one another for all eternity. It's something many Pureblood couples do, but it can only be done when one or both people are pure. Draco's never told me whether or not he's ever been with someone, but since I haven't, well…"

Hermione blinked. "So, he's going to be 'it' for you?" she asked. "Are you sure you want to do that? I mean, what if something happens later on in life? Or what happens if he passes on? Will that mean…?"

Astoria nodded. "But I don't mind," she assured her. "I don't want anyone else."

"But what if you meet someone?" Hermione asked.

"She can still remarry," Ginny told the Muggleborn. "She just can never procreate with anyone else. Once her and Draco are bound, they can only ever reproduce with one another."

"What if you and Draco never have children?" Hermione inquired.

"Oh, please don't say that," Astoria said, sitting up. "It's bad luck. Draco would be heartbroken if that were to ever come to pass."

Hermione shook her head. "I'm sorry. I just… that is a huge life decision. To become bound to one person forever?"

Astoria frowned a little. "I've been giving it a lot of thought," she assured her. "Draco's the 'One', the only one I want to be with. Besides, it's tradition."

Hermione sat back, her eyes wide. Tradition. "Lucius and Narcissa weren't bound, were they?"

Astoria shook her head. "Draco told me that they weren't able to. Theirs was an arranged marriage, which means they had been betrothed for years before they had even finished Hogwarts. So, neither put much stock in keeping things 'pure', I suppose," she explained. "I mean, had they done so, then they never would have been able to get divorced. Binding yourself to another makes such a thing impossible."

"While you can remarry if your spouse dies," Ginny elaborated to Hermione, "as long as your spouse remains alive, your life belongs to him, and vice versa. Even things such as cheating can't really occur."

Hermione's head tilted. "Why not?" she asked.

"Aside from things like erectile dysfunction?" the ginger mused, causing Hermione's eyes to widen. Ginny shrugged. "When you bind yourself to another, there's no… interest in anyone else. I've never done it myself, but from what I've heard, it's like during the first year of your marriage, you're in this euphoric sort of bubble where only you and your spouse exist. All either of you want to ever do is just be together, whether it's making love or cuddling, or… whatever. You can't stop thinking about each other, can't wait to touch one another."

"And after the year?" Hermione pressed.

Ginny shrugged. "Well, it does ease up, and the yearning for one another lessens, but it's always there. Always in the back of your mind. And your love for one another grows stronger with time. Many people who bind themselves find that, even after their spouse dies, they just have no desire for another partner."

Hermione frowned as she took in this new information. "Why only a year?" she asked.

"Babies," Ginny said with a smile.

Hermione looked at her and the ginger elaborated, "Usually after a year, they've already had a baby, so their focus falls on the child."

"Some aren't so lucky, though," Astoria said sadly. "It took my parents years before they successfully gave birth to Daphne. I was a complete surprise as the Healer had told my mother that she couldn't have any more children."

Hermione's mind whirled with this new information. Why hadn't Lucius brought this up to her? Was he expecting a binding between her and him? What if he did? Did she want it? He wasn't bound to Narcissa, thank the gods, but what if he wanted to be bound to Hermione? While she had, in her heart, believed that she and Lucius would be together until the end, she hadn't considered the idea of removing divorce altogether.

' _Til Death do ye part…_

That was the standard proclamation in most Muggle weddings, but in this day and age, many people did not live up to that promise. A Magical binding would, essentially, force a couple into that promise.

The doorbell rang and all three witches jumped and glanced at the door.

Hermione stood and hurried to open it. Her eyes widened in fright as she looked up to see Lucius standing there is all his glory. His robes were as immaculate as his hair and his face brightened as he gazed at her. "Hello, beautiful," he greeted.

His face fell slightly as he noticed her look of panic. "Are you all right, my dear?" he asked.

She nodded as she opened the door wider to let him inside. "We were just talking," she explained as he stepped into the flat.

He glanced at the other two witches and his brow furrowed. "Greetings, ladies," he said.

"Hi, Lucius," Ginny piped as Astoria said, "Hello, Mr. Malfoy."

"Shouldn't you be at the Manor by now, Astoria?" he asked. "I'm sure your parents must be worried, especially your mother."

"Yes, sir," Astoria said as she stood up. "I just wanted to speak with Hermione for a moment and I knew she was here."

He nodded in understanding. "I wouldn't keep them waiting," he told her. "I don't think your father would be too pleased."

She bowed her head sheepishly. "Yes, of course," she said as she walked up to the fireplace. She looked back at Hermione. "I'll see you at the wedding?"

Hermione grinned. "Of course."

Astoria turned her eyes to Ginny. "And you and Harry, too, hm?"

Ginny chuckled. "I don't know if getting Harry and Draco together in a room is such a good idea," she warned.

Astoria shrugged. "I'm sure it will be fine. I really hope you can make it," she said before she stepped into the Floo and called out, "Malfoy Manor."

Ginny watched the girl go and shook her head. "Harry's going to kill me," she said absently.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to," Hermione said as she approached her friend.

Ginny looked at the older witch. "Yes, I do," she told her. "You still need a chaperone and, I'm sorry, but I highly doubt either of my parents have proper attire for this wedding. The last thing I want is for either of them to embarrass themselves."

"Perhaps you should go to your home then and get ready?" Lucius suggested.

The ginger looked at him and her eyes narrowed. "And leave the two of you alone in this flat? My mother will have my head. No. I will escort you and Hermione to the Manor and make sure she is safely inside with Astoria and Luna. Then I will go and get ready."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said as he glanced at Hermione. "Are you ready, darling?"

Hermione touched her soft blue formal robes and nodded. "I am."

He looked at Ginny. "Given your condition, I don't think it would be the wisest thing to Apparate," he stated, glancing at her pregnant stomach.

"Thank you for the consideration," she said as she walked to the fireplace. She looked at Hermione. "You first," she instructed. "Then me, then Lucius."

Hermione glanced at her fiance and nodded. "I'll see you at the Manor then," she said with a smile.

As she turned her attention to the fireplace, Lucius reached out to touch her. "Wait," he said.

The two witches looked at him. He took a deep breath. "Perhaps I should go first," he suggested.

"Ladies' first," Ginny argued.

He gave her a soft, almost embarrassed smile. "I know," he assured her. "However, Narcissa is over there right now, and…"

"Why is Narcissa in your home?" Hermione asked, interrupting him.

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. As much as he hated being interrupted, he did enjoy the idea that she could be jealous. "I don't know," he said. "Perhaps because her son is getting married today? Either way, I do think I should go ahead to make sure nothing untoward happens when the two of you arrive."

"You expect something to happen?" Ginny asked.

He shook his head. "But you can never be too careful," he told her. "I know Narcissa. I would hope she would show some respect for her son's wedding, but I wouldn't put it past her to try to start something."

"Should I bring Harry now?" Ginny asked him as she looked at him with worry in her eyes.

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you just say that Mr. Potter wasn't going to be pleased? While I do think having an Auror there would be beneficiary to all parties involved, something tells me he isn't going to rush over. Particularly given our last encounter," he said.

Ginny glanced at Hermione and the brunette shrugged. Snapping her fingers, Ginny said, "Hold on. I've an idea."

She bent down in front of the fireplace and threw some Floo Powder into it. "Grimmauld Place," she said loudly and stuck her head inside.

Lucius raised an eyebrow. His eyes wandered to Hermione with a look of impatience and she gave him an apologetic smile.

"Harry?" Ginny called.

Seeing him appear in the flames, Ginny sat back. Her husband looked at her. "What's going on?" he asked.

Ginny glanced behind her and then back at him. "I'm bringing Hermione to Draco and Astoria's wedding. I'm playing chaperone today," she told him. She quickly explained the situation to him.

"Ginny," he said with a patience Hermione had only seen him use towards James. "I told you: the less I have to deal with the Malfoys, the better. I have no desire - ."

"Hermione is going to marry Lucius!" Ginny shouted. "Maybe not today, but it is going to happen. So, you are going to have to learn to deal with it. I'm going to Malfoy Manor with Hermione to help Astoria get ready. We need you to get dressed in formal attire and meet us there."

"And what do I do with James?" he asked, clearly annoyed.

"Bring him to the Burrow. You know Mum loves spending time with him," she told him.

"Ginny…"

"I can't come over there right now. I'm with Hermione and Lucius and we're getting ready to head to the Manor. Just… meet us there," she insisted.

Harry's face scrunched up. "You are not going there by yourself!" he growled.

Hermione joined Ginny at the fireplace. "She won't be by herself. I'll be with her," she told him.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" he asked.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Seriously?"

Harry sighed. "Look. I'm not trying to make you upset or argue with you, Hermione. I just… don't trust your judgement entirely right now."

"Excuse me?"

"Think about it," he implored her. "You're dating Lucius fucking Malfoy. Hell, not just dating, you're _engaged_ to him! You've never acted like this before. It's like he's got you under some sort of love spell or something."

The brunette witch sat back on her haunches. "You think this is the work of a love spell?" she asked. "And you don't think, for one second, that I could be in love with him by my own choice? You think this despite the fact that I have turned Cormac McLaggen down. Despite the fact that it was me who got us through the third floor during our first year. Despite the fact that I received the most O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s in over a century. Despite the fact that I figured out why Dumbledore had left you the sword of Gryffindor. I passed the bill that protects elves from abuse. I…"

"I get it, Hermione!" he shouted, cutting her off. "You're a fucking hero. I get it. And you're brilliant. Doesn't mean you can't make mistakes, does it? You say you're in love with him, but you give no explanation as to why."

"I wasn't aware I needed to explain myself to anyone," Hermione said.

Harry shook his head. "If he had been McLaggen, I would have understood. I would think you're bonkers, but it wouldn't have been a big deal. But this is Lucius Malfoy, Hermione. This is beyond crazy. This is bordering on insanity."

"Enough," Lucius growled. "Speak to my fiancée disrespectfully again, Mr. Potter, and I don't care if you're an Auror. I will see to it that you are suspended."

"No, Lucius, don't," Hermione intervened.

He shook his head. "I won't have him treating you like this, Hermione," the older wizard told her. "You've done too much for him and the Wizarding community to be treated so disrespectfully."

She smiled softly at him. Standing up, she touched his arm. "I know, but… Let me deal with him. I know how tempting it can be to throw your money at things and ruin a person's life, but not Harry. Please. He has a wife and child, plus another on the way." She glanced at Harry, who was glaring at her. "When you are finished acting like Ronald Weasley, I do think we should sit down and talk. Like adults. Who I choose to spend my life with is my choice, not yours. My parents have given their blessing, not that they needed to, of course, because they trust me to make the right decisions for my may not like it, but it is my decision. Not yours."

"Hermione, I don't think…"

"Good!" she spat. "You shouldn't 'think' anything. I never asked for your opinion or your permission!"

"Fine!" he shouted.

"Fine!" she repeated. "I'll see you at the wedding."

"Doubt it," Harry huffed.

Ginny glared at her husband. "Harry James Potter, if you don't come to that wedding and do your job, I swear I will name this child of ours Lucius and make Lucius Malfoy the godfather!"

Harry scoffed. "You wouldn't dare."

She stood up and looked down at him. "Try me," she challenged and ended the spell. She looked at Lucius. "All right, Lucius. You first. I will follow and then Hermione. Sound good?"

He waved a hand, still trying to calm down from what had just happened. "Fair enough," he said. He pulled Hermione to him and gave her a quick, chaste kiss. "I'll see you at the Manor," he whispered against her lips.

(III)(III)

"Oh, Hermione, Ginny! You made it!" Astoria preened as the two Gryffindors entered the room that had be reserved for her.

There were several others women in the room, including Luna and… "Padma?" Hermione asked, surprised to see the Ravenclaw there.

Padma smiled and nodded to her. "Hello, Hermione," she greeted. "How have you been?"

Hermione returned her smile with one of her own. "Well enough, I suppose. What of you?"

The Indian witch's smile broadened as she held her left hand to her chest, flashing a diamond ring. Both Hermione and Ginny squealed and Padma joined in their excitement. "Who is he?" Ginny gushed.

Padma leaned forward, as if to whisper, and said, "Blaise Zabini."

"No!" Hermione breathed in surprise.

Padma nodded. "Apparently, he had fancied me since Hogwarts. Oh, I had never been more surprised and happy when he got down on one knee at his mother's chalet!"

"Rumour has it, she isn't the only one engaged, Granger," Daphne said as she entered the room dressed in her finest robes.

"Nothing's been announced yet," Astoria told her older sister.

Daphne shrugged. "Probably because they're waiting until after your wedding to do so," she surmised. She looked back at the Muggleborn. "So, is the rumour true?"

Absentmindedly, Hermione touched her own ring. "Depends on what rumour you've heard," she said evasively.

"Cut the crap, Granger," Pansy Parkinson snapped as she entered the room as well. "We all know Lucius Malfoy has been courting you. It was all over the Prophet."

Hermione shrugged. "If you already know, then I shouldn't have to tell you one way or the other, should I?" she said. "Today is supposed to be about Astoria. Not me. So, perhaps we should focus on her instead?"

Astoria smiled at Hermione and then looked into a mirror. "Oh, I hope Draco likes this dress I'm wearing," she commented as she ran her hands along the fabric.

"He's going to love it," Hermione assured her with a smile.

The dress was a white sleeveless A-line silk gown with a sweetheart top and cascading skirt. "White is the colour of purity," Astoria told the Muggleborn matter-of-factly. "In Wizarding culture, only a virgin is allowed to wear white. And that includes the groom. If he isn't a virgin, he must wear the standard black formal robes." She glanced at the older witch and frowned a little. "Draco told me that he would be wearing the black formal robes. I don't know if it's because he likes the colour or because he isn't a virgin."

"Hate to break it to you, sister," Daphne told Astoria. "Draco isn't a virgin."

Hermione lightly squeezed Astoria's hand. "I wouldn't worry about it," she assured her. "At least you know that one of you will be experienced, right? I don't know what I would do if I were to marry a virgin."

"It's not so bad," Ginny said. "On the plus side, you have a chance to train him specifically to fit your needs."

Padma giggled. "Oh! So you mean Cho lied?" she asked, giving Ginny a surprised look.

The ginger rolled her eyes. "Cho only wishes she had bedded Harry," she said with a wave of her hand to dismiss the notion.

"When would he have had the time?" Hermione asked, looking at Padma curiously. "They only dated for, what? Two weeks? And even then, he was so busy dealing with Voldemort…"

Daphne hissed. "Don't say that name here!"

"Fear of the name…"

"It's not a matter of 'fearing the name', Granger," Pansy explained. "It's conjuring negativity. We're supposed to be conjuring good things right now. Positive energy. Like that ring you got on your finger. That's a Malfoy family heirloom, which means that he did propose to you."

Hermione frowned. "So what if he did?" she asked. "This day isn't about me."

"Of course it isn't," Pansy agreed. "But it is nice to have confirmation of our suspicions. Why do you care anyway?"

Astoria wrapped an arm around Hermione. "It's true," she said. "Hermione and I are going to be in-laws soon. Isn't that great?! Not only am I marrying the man of my dreams, but I will be related to one of the most brilliant witches to have ever graced the halls of Hogwarts."

"Hey! I thought I was one of the most brilliant witches to have ever graced the halls of Hogwarts," Daphne argued, looking a bit perturbed.

Astoria rolled her eyes. "Not like Hermione, though," she told the older witch. "You're pretty and you certainly had the attention of almost every boy in school, but Hermione had all the brains. Brightest witch of our age. And she still found time to defeat the Darkest wizard since Grindelwald. And she went to the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum! How many witches do you know can say that?"

Hermione chuckled. "I'm not that special," she said.

Pansy rolled her eyes, but it was Luna who spoke, "Special enough to capture the attention of Lucius Malfoy. I've heard that you've even managed to change him."

"I don't think that was because of me," the brunette said. "A lot of things have happened since the Dark Lord returned. All of these can contribute to his reformation." She shrugged.

Pansy and Daphne shared a look with one another. "Brightest witch of our age, huh?" Pansy asked, still looking at Daphne.

Hermione glared at Pansy. "What is that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

Ginny placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. She turned to Astoria. "Your dress is beautiful. Draco isn't going to know what hit him when he sees you."

(IV)(IV)

Draco paced the length of the fireplace. His best friends, Blaise and Theodore, nursing snifters of firewhiskey and sat in the armchairs on either side of the fireplace, watched him.

"Why are you nervous?" Theo asked as he took a sip of his drink.

Draco did not stop his movement as he answered, "I'm not nervous. I just don't understand why we have to wait so long to get started."

"She needs time to get ready," Blaise pointed out. "And not just her. One thing you'll learn is that women need time to prepare for special events."

"You can talk," Theo said. "You aren't even married yet."

The dark skinned Slytherin shrugged and took a sip of his firewhiskey. "I'm engaged, so it's only a matter of time."

"You gonna bind with her, too?" Theo asked, curious.

Blaise snorted. "No. I'm not stupid enough to hang my wand up to one witch for the rest of my life."

"Stupidity would be to willingly live your life alone," Lucius said as he entered the room. "You may not see it now, young Zabini, but as the years pass, you'll find yourself yearning for a companion that will last."

Draco paused in his pacing and looked at his father. "Is it time?" he asked.

"Almost," Lucius assured him.

Blaise frowned. "If Padma wants forever, then the ideal thing would be for her to never leave me. But that will be her choice. At the same time, it will be my choice as well. Who knows? Ten or so years from now, our relationship might be different. One of us might decide we don't want to be with the other," he said. "I'm not going to hinder that decision by forcing her to stay with something as permanent as a binding."

Lucius grimaced as he fixed himself a brandy and leaned against the wet bar. "Marriage shouldn't be considered a hindrance. It's hard work, and takes dedication. A binding is merely a promise to your partner that you will work hard and be dedicated to her. That you will never hurt her or stray. A binding merely proves that you take your wedding vows seriously."

"Says the man who strayed," Narcissa said as she joined them.

"Not before you did, my dear," he countered with a raised eyebrow.

She approached her son. Fixing his tie, she kissed his cheek and brushed some non-existent wrinkles from his shoulder. "You look perfect, darling. So tall and handsome."

Draco looked at his parents in annoyance and stood straight. "Are we ready yet?" he asked harshly.

She smiled and gave him a single nod. "We are."

(V)(V)

At a quarter past 11 am, Astoria's father came into the room. "It's time," he announced.

The witches stood up. "Good luck," Pansy said as she patted the young bride on the shoulder and made to exit. She stopped at the door and looked back. "You should come, too, Potter. You're not part of the wedding party."

Hermione glanced at Astoria. "Should I go as well?"

The blonde looked at her curiously. "You're Mr. Malfoy's betrothed," she explained. "I would hope you would walk beside him down the aisle."

The Muggleborn blinked. "But we're not married yet. And I'm not Draco's mother. Shouldn't Narcissa walk beside him?"

Astoria shrugged. "If they were still married, sure."

"This is a Pureblood traditional wedding, Hermione," Luna said calmly. "It is customary that the father of the groom walk with his chosen. And the mother of the groom do the same. If they were married, they would walk beside one another, but since they are not, it wouldn't be proper."

"Didn't Lucius tell you this?" Daphne asked.

Hermione frowned. "No," she answered.

A gleam flashed in Daphne's eyes. "Wonder what else he hasn't told you?"

"That's enough, Daphne," Mr. Greengrass said as he offered his arm to his youngest daughter.

The girls quickly fell in line in front of Astoria. With a little help from Luna, Hermione found her place within the line, though she remained confused.

Hermione had expected to attend the wedding. She hadn't expected to be a part of it. Why didn't Lucius tell her?

Luna conjured a small bouquet of flowers and handed them to Hermione. "When you meet up with Mr. Malfoy, he will give you a corsage to wear. This corsage will Mark you as his equal. His partner," she explained. "Would you like me to give you a radish necklace to protect you from any Nargles?"

Hermione chuckled. "That won't be necessary, but thank you," she said kindly.

Mrs. Greengrass opened the door and the procession began. Blaise and Theodore were quick to meet up with their partners, bestowing upon the two witches with fanciful corsages of different colours. For Luna, Theodore had given her a corsage that had bright yellow and orange flowers, complete with a huge Easter lily in the middle. Blaise gave Padma something a bit more subtle with soft pink and white roses.

Hermione hesitated as she watched Narcissa and Lucius walk towards them. They looked so perfect together, as always. The Muggleborn gazed at them with troubled eyes as they approached. She knew what Lucius had told her of his relationship with Narcissa, but it just didn't seem as though that would have been enough. Why did they divorce, really?

As they met with Astoria's party, Lucius and Narcissa parted. A man that Hermione hadn't noticed before approached Narcissa and offered her a corsage with white and blue roses. The Pureblood witch glanced at Hermione. Her eyes narrowed and she raised a single, haughty eyebrow. Lifting her head up, she sneered at the younger witch and took the arm of the man.

Lucius approached Hermione and smiled gently at her. "You look beautiful, my love," he told her as he slipped a corsage on her wrist.

Hermione glanced down at the corsage and took a deep breath. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, gazing up at him.

The corsage she wore also had white roses, but in the middle of it was a silver emblem with the Malfoy crest. The man certainly did take pride in his heritage.

"About what?" he asked, genuinely curious.

She frowned. "That I was going to be a part of this wedding," she clarified.

He looked at her in surprise as they both heard Narcissa give a derisive laugh. Apparently, she had heard the girl as well. His smile faltered as Lucius gazed down at his betrothed. "It is customary for the parents of the bride and groom to walk down the aisle with their respective partners," he explained. "Is this not something they do in Muggle culture?"

Hermione pressed her lips together. "Usually, if the parents do walk down the aisle, the father and the mother of the groom will walk together while the mother of the bride will walk with another man so that the father can walk with the bride," she explained. She sighed. "If the parents are divorced and have new partners, then usually, said partners will wait with the other guests."

Lucius frowned. "Do you not wish to walk with me?" he asked, his hands still as his face hardened a little.

"I don't mind," she told him. "I just wish you would've told me so I could be more prepared."

He nodded. "Understood. Now, shall we?" he said as he offered her his arm.

She accepted his arm and he led her down a fairy lighted path into the gardens.

The gardens of Malfoy Manor had never been more beautiful. The pathway glittered and danced with fairy light as the flowers were in full bloom. The scent of jasmine and lavender permeated the air and mixed delicately with the roses and gardenias.

As Hermione and Lucius moved closer to the gazebo where Draco stood with a priest, the Muggleborn glanced around, taking note of the white chairs and the guests that stood to watch the parade of people. The gazebo was covered in white jasmine and had white Greek columns.

Hermione noticed that Draco was wearing black robes. Beside him stood Theo and Blaise. If the witch didn't know better, she'd think Draco seemed nervous, but that would have been wishful thinking. She watched as Narcissa and her beau moved off to the side and took note that neither of them sat down.

The young witch closed her eyes briefly. Were they going to stand the entire ceremony? If she had known that, she would have worn different shoes. Or at least spelled them to be more comfortable.

With Lucius standing, proudly, by her side, Hermione moved to stand close to Narcissa and her beau. The Pureblood witch did not bother to look in her direction. Sighing, Hermione watched the rest of the procession.

Daphne walked beside a wizard that, at first glance, Hermione did not recognize. As the couple moved off to the side, Astoria's side, Astoria's parents followed. Hermione gave a soft smile to them and turned to look down the aisle.

Astoria was gorgeous. Her light blonde hair hung down her back and was covered with a sheer veil that glittered like diamonds. Her white robes were lined with silver satin. The robes accented her figure with a sweetheart bosom and mermaid skirt. A slit in the skirt that started at her knees revealed a pair of silver heels. She held a white rose and white lily bouquet between her hands and kept her face bowed, letting the veil effectively cover her.

Lucius leaned down slightly to whisper into Hermione's ear. "She shows submission," he explained, "and purity. This will be a clean binding."

Hermione glanced up at him and frowned. Looking back at the girl, she noticed that Astoria walked alone. The Muggleborn glanced at Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass, who stood, watching, as their daughter ascended the walkway. As she took a step up to the altar, Draco took a step down towards her and offered her his hand. She paused and glanced at the hand.

The priest's voice spoke loud and clear, "Astoria Greengrass, daughter of Eugene Greengrass and Celeste Greengrass, nee Avery, will you accept the hand of Draco Malfoy?"

Lifting her hand, she placed it delicately into Draco's and looked up at him. "I will," she said.

Draco smiled as he closed his hand lightly around hers and guided her onto the altar. Once they were both on the altar, Astoria handed her bouquet to Draco. Draco turned slightly to give it to Theodore and then turned his attention back to his bride. Facing one another, they both knelt and clasped each other's hands. The priest draped an ornate white cloth over their joined hands.

"This ceremony will be more than the joining of two young people," the priest announced to those in attendance. "They will be bound with a promise to be together from now until such a time that they depart from this world. The binding will begin now and will be completed this evening, after the vows and reception."

The priest walked behind a white clothed table and picked up the golden goblet placed upon it. "Astoria Greengrass? You may rise," he commanded.

The witch did as she was asked, though how she managed to avoid stepping upon her skirt, Hermione hadn't the faintest idea. Astoria's smile was wide as she gazed down at Draco, who looked up at her in awe.

With a wave of his wand, the priest lifted the golden goblet and held it between the couple. "In this cup is a special potion. A single sip will prevent the drinker from giving the other any false statements throughout the duration of this ceremony. Draco Malfoy? You may rise."

Draco stood, his eyes never leaving Astoria. "Each of you will now take a sip from the cup," the priest ordered.

The priest handed the goblet to Astoria. Taking a deep breath, she accepted the cup and, closing her eyes, she took a sip from it. Golden thread wrapped around her body as she opened her eyes and presented the goblet to Draco. Not taking his eyes off of his bride, he, too, took a sip from the cup.

The golden threads that were wrapped around Astoria slithered from her hands to Draco's and wrapped around his body. They glowed dully and disappeared as Draco handed the goblet back to the priest. As the priest accepted the cup and placed it back on the altar, Draco took Astoria's hands into his own again.

The priest picked up a long green and silver cord which he wrapped around the couple's joined hands. "We are gathered here today to unite two souls as one," he said, his voice loud and commanding. "Do you, Draco Malfoy and Astoria Greengrass, join us here of your own free will, to acknowledge the eternal bond shared between you?"

As they both nodded, Draco gave Astoria a soft smile. "I promise to give to you the best of myself and ask of you no more than you can give. I promise to respect you as your own person and to realise that your interests, desires, and needs are no less important than my own. I promise to share with you my time and attention and to bring joy, strength, and imagination to our relationship," he said, his voice melodic.

Hermione lifted her free hand to her chest, surprised and taken by the sincerity of Draco's words. Glancing at Astoria, she saw tears falling from the girl's eyes. Draco continued, "I promise to keep myself open to you, to let you see through the window of my world into my innermost fears and feelings, secrets and dreams. I promise to grow along with you, to be willing to face changes in order to keep our relationship alive and exciting. I promise to love you in good times and in bad, with all I have to give and all I feel inside in the only way I know how. Completely and forever."

Silence reigned as his words sank into the hearts of the people bearing witness to this union. Astoria, unable to wipe her eyes, was freely crying. Taking a deep breath, she smiled brilliantly at the wizard before her.

Her smile faltered as her eyes fell to their joined hands. "You cannot possess me for I belong to myself," she said softly. "But while we both wish it, I will give you that which is mine to give. You cannot command me, for I am a free person. But I shall serve you in those ways you require and the honeycomb will taste sweeter from my hand. I pledge to you that yours will be the name I cry aloud in the night and the eyes into which I smile in the morning. I pledge to you the first bite of my meat and the first drink from my cup. I pledge to you my living and my dying, each equally in your care. I shall be a shield for your back and you for mine. I shall not slander you, nor you me. I shall honour you above all others, and when we quarrel, we shall do so in private and tell no strangers our grievances." She looked up into his eyes. As her watery smile broadened, she finished, "This is my wedding vow to you. This is a marriage of equals."

Hermione leaned into Lucius as she watched the couple. Her eyes widened as the cord wrapped around their hands changed. The green turned to a golden colour and the priest spoke, "Here before witnesses, Draco Malfoy and Astoria Greengrass have sworn their vow to each other. With this cord, I bind them to these vows."

The priest lifted his wand and another golden cord slithered from his wand to wrap around the couple's hands. "However, this binding is not tied," he said, "so that neither partner is restricted by the other. Because the only true enforcement of love, is the will to love."

All the cords glowed brilliantly as they moved around the couple's hands and faded into their skin. Wedding rings appeared on their fingers. Draco and Astoria smiled at one another. Together, they said, "Heart to thee, body to thee, always and forever, so mote it be."

The entire congress of people, including Lucius and, belatedly, Hermione, said, "So mote it be."

Draco tugged on Astoria's hands, drawing her closer to him as he bent his head and kissed her gently on the lips. As the party clapped, and some cheered and shouted praise, the priest's voice boomed above them all, "I present to you all Draco and Astoria Malfoy!"

Laughing, Hermione looked up at Lucius. Her smile widened even more when she saw the look of pure pride on his face. Still giggling, she pressed a kiss to his shoulder. While she wasn't trying to draw his attention, he still glanced down at her and touched her chin. When she looked up at him, he kissed her. "I cannot wait for our day," he whispered against her lips.

Hermione felt a hive of butterflies flutter about her stomach at those words. _Their day_ … This was going to be them one day.

She turned her attention back to Draco and Astoria. The couple looked so happy and in love. Their day. One day. Hermione's heart filled with so much love and joy at the thought.

* * *

Author's Note: The vows Draco gives are actually a poem by Dorothy R. Colgan called _I Promise_. The vows Astoria gives are the tradition Celtic vows.


	11. Chapter 10

Hermione gazed around the ballroom as Lucius led her into another waltz. Just as the wedding had been breathtaking, so was the reception. It was clear that Lucius and Eugene had spared no expense.

" _Why is the wedding being done here? Do the Greengrasses not… live up to your standards of wealth?" Hermione had asked Lucius in low tones while they ate their meal._

 _The banquet hall in Malfoy Manor had been decorated in soft greens and silvers. Each table had been covered in a white tablecloth and every dish and flute had been made from the finest of china. The food had been delicious. The champagne had been imported from a Malfoy vineyard in France. The detail on the hand-crafted wedding cake was exquisite with sugar flowers and dusted in edible silver dust._

 _Lucius had given her a soft smile and took a drink from his flute before answering, "No, not really. Granted, they haven't accumulated the amount of wealth I have, but Eugene is getting there. Both Daphne and Astoria will be set for life."_

 _Hermione had frowned as she looked down at her plate. "So, I suppose the Greengrass line is dead as well," she had surmised._

 _Lucius had shaken his head. "No. Eugene has three brothers. They will continue the line. However, given that Celeste cannot bear him any more children, Eugene's specific line will die with him."_

" _May I ask why the wedding was done here? If Mr. Greengrass has money, then shouldn't it be done at his home?" she asked._

" _Malfoy Manor is much larger than the Greengrass Estate," Lucius explained. "Although, if it will ease your mind, Celeste did much of the planning and Eugene did contribute with food and decorations. I merely supplied the grounds."_

Hermione glanced up lovingly at Lucius. She gave him a coy smile when his eyes met hers. "So. The wedding ceremony," she commented.

He lifted a single brow. "What of it?" he asked.

"Astoria had told me of this binding ritual she and Draco were doing," she explained to him. "Which, by the way, is something else you had failed to tell me. Is the ritual complete?"

He sighed. "Not yet," he replied. "The ritual will be complete when they first lay together as man and wife."

"Why?" she asked, frowning. "I mean, why the binding? Why the ritual?"

He looked at her curiously. "Do Muggles not have something similar?"

"I'm not a Muggle," she pointed out.

He nodded. "Yes, but you were raised by them. Surely you've been to Muggle wedding ceremonies at least once or twice?" he questioned.

She looked away for a moment, her eyes falling on a laughing Draco and Astoria as they danced. "I have. I mean, there are vows, and this sort of 'sacred oath' they give to one another," she admitted. She turned her gaze back up to him. "While some Muggles keep true to their vows, not all do. Nor are the vows as binding as the ones Astoria and Draco gave."

"Muggles don't have the luxury of magic," he surmised. "However, one would think giving a vow, or oath, would be binding enough. Or is there no longer any honour within the Muggle community?"

"It's not always about honour, though," she explained. "Sometimes when two people marry, they do so without realizing exactly what 'forever' means. Forever is a really long time. And if two people aren't right for one another…" she looked away as she let the comment fade.

He frowned. "So you're saying they marry without thinking about the consequences?" He pressed.

She nodded slowly. "And sometimes they marry, thinking they are in love with someone, and that someone turns out to be a monster, so they have to divorce to survive. Or the person ends up being unfaithful, or an alcoholic, or whatever number of reasons. There are millions of reasons why people divorce. Sometimes they just simply fall out of love. Sometimes they just can't get along." She sighed as he turned her.

"Marriage isn't easy," Lucius said, thinking back to his own previous marriage. "However, I do believe anything of value is worth fighting for."

She looked up at him. "It is. Which is why I don't understand why you and Narcissa didn't work on your marriage. I mean," she glanced away again. Sighing, she continued, "I love you, Lucius. And I am happy that we are together. For some reason, however, I don't see a simple matter of infidelity being the sole cause of your divorce."

"Nor is it," he admitted. "The end of our marriage was truly a long time coming. An act of infidelity from her wasn't a 'big deal', until she had dared to invite him into our marital bed. As you and I have discussed before, we had married young, and at the insistence of our parents. Neither of us truly understood what we were doing. For Merlin's sake, we weren't even aware that, at least one of us had to be a virgin for the binding to stick! Not until it was too late."

She frowned. "Yes, Astoria told me about that…" she commented. After a moment of thought, she asked, "Lucius, are you going to want us to bind? I am a virgin, so…"

Lucius gazed down at her and cupped her jaw gently. "Would you want to?" He asked in return, his heart fluttering unnaturally.

She leaned into his touch, though her brow furrowed. "I don't know," she whispered, uncertainly.

He dropped his hand as he silently sucked in a breath. It was not ideal, but he could work with her, convince her that binding was the correct path.

She seemed to notice how her words had affected him for she reached up to touch his cheek. "I'm not opposed to the idea," she assured him. "I just need time to think about it. I want to be with you forever, Lucius. I love you and can't imagine a life without you."

He raised an eyebrow. "So, what's there to consider?" He asked, feeling a little miffed.

"It's a lot to take in," she said. "This has been happening so fast. One moment we're just casually flirting in the Magical Gardens and the next you're proposing and we're discussing forever."

He gave her a half smile. "Well, I don't think it happened _that_ quickly," he commented sardonically.

She stared at him in disbelief. "One dinner and two days later you went to my parents and asked for their permission to court me," she pointed out.

His smile faltered. "I do believe that is the proper etiquette, even if your parents didn't agree," he told her. "Honestly, though, I'm still a bit new to this myself. Narcissa and I had been an arranged marriage. Our fathers had worked out the details and our mothers had planned the wedding. We had little choice. I did attempt to court her because we were betrothed and it was expected of me. But the fact is, during our years in Hogwarts we had borderline resented one another and it wasn't until after we became physically intimate that we actually felt emotionally connected in any fashion. Even then, I don't know that we ever did. Not truly. We had Draco and were happy for a while after the Dark Lord disappeared the first time. Once the Dark Lord returned, I knew our marriage would suffer, regardless of the outcome of the war."

Hermione nodded, having heard him speak of his relationship with Narcissa before. "It's just… well, binding just seems so… final," she said after a pause. She glanced up at him. "Once it's done, it's done. There is no turning back. No second guesses. What if, later in life, you regret marrying me?"

His frown deepened. "Is that what you fear? That one of us will regret marrying the other?" he asked.

She sighed as she shook her head, but stopped as she thought about it. "Maybe?" she confessed. "Ron and I were together for… well, years. We were friends all throughout Hogwarts, and even fought a war together. Then, all because I wasn't ready for children yet, he just… calls it quits." She glanced up at him again and he could see a flicker of fear in her eyes. "What if -?"

He placed the tips of his fingers over her lips. "Stop," he whispered softly. Using his fingers to tilt her head up to look at him, he met her eyes. "Do not ever compare me to Mr. Weasley, Hermione. I am not him. I won't abandon you. Not for anything. You are my intended and one day, hopefully soon, you will be my wife. I will do anything for you until the day I no longer draw breath. Do you understand, my darling?"

She lowered her eyes to his chest, staring at it. "I do," she whispered. "I just…" she looked up at him. "I'm afraid I'm going to fail you. I wasn't born into this world. I know so little of it."

He shrugged. "Mistakes will be made," he said. "We're human. But I am here to guide you. As are Astoria and Draco. We will help you get through it all, I promise."

"I don't want to be an embarrassment," she told him.

He shook his head. "You won't be."

As the music faded, they stopped dancing and he bowed to her. "Now, as part of the reception, I will have to dance with Astoria whilst Draco dances with her mother. Eventually, Draco will approach you for a dance as will Eugene, Astoria's father. These are essential dances to show acceptance of one another as our families combine."

"Will I need to dance with Narcissa's beau?" Hermione asked, glancing at the wizarding in question and frowning.

Lucius shook his head. "That will be unnecessary," he told her. "If you like, you may sample some of the refreshments while you wait for Draco. You are free to converse with whomever you wish, though I do ask that you reserve your next two dances for those two. After you've danced with both Draco and Eugene, you will be free to dance with whomever you wish."

Hermione pursed her lips. "I do need to spend some time with Harry and Ginny," she pointed out. "They came to this for me."

He nodded. "And you are free to visit with them if you wish. No one is stopping you. However, as my fiancée, there are some things that are required of you. There will be even more once we marry," he explained.

He sighed when she looked away from him. Kissing the top of her head, he rested his cheek against hers. "You have asked me to not keep anything from you, to let you know what you have to do. Darling, that is all I am doing," he said softly, his breath tickling her ear.

As the music started again, he released her and stood up straight. "I must go, darling," he told her. "Will you be alright?"

She nodded with a soft smile. "I will," she assured him. "I'll wait for Draco with Harry and Ginny."

He returned her smile and gave her a quick, chaste kiss. "Very well, my love. I will see you in a bit."

With that, he turned on his heel and walked to where Draco and Astoria were still embracing on the dance floor. Hermione watched him go and sighed.

(II)(II)

"Hermione! There you are!"

The Muggleborn turned in her spot at the bar and saw her two best friends approaching. Ginny smiled broadly as she reached her friend. "I saw you dancing with Lucius. You two looked so happy and beautiful together," the ginger witch said.

Harry rolled his eyes as he glanced at the bartender and ordered a firewhiskey. "Yeah, it looked like the perfect father/daughter dance," he commented.

The two witches stared at him in shock. Ginny slapped him upside his head. "Harry James Potter!" she snapped. "That is not what that looked like and you know it."

Harry sighed and pushed his glasses up. "Maybe, but there was definitely a certain pedophilia feel to it," he replied before flinching as his wife pointed her wand at him.

"I will hex you," she warned.

"Please don't," Hermione said, though she glared at Harry. "The only reason I am not rising to your bait is because we are at a wedding. More importantly, we are at Draco and Astoria's wedding." She straightened her shoulders and stared at him. "And your mannerism is deplorable, Harry. Stop acting like Ron or you can leave."

"I can?" he asked, looking at his wife hopefully.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "No, you can't. Hermione still has at least two more dances that she has to do, plus any others that may come her way," she explained.

Hermione looked at her friend. "How do you know that?"

Ginny shrugged. "Traditional Pureblood wedding reception? Groom must dance with his bride, his bride's mother, and his own mother. Since Lucius and Narcissa are divorced, he must also dance with his father's new wife, or in this case his fiancée. And Astoria must do the same," she said.

"Lucius had told me that, but I don't remember that happening at your wedding, or those of your brothers'?"

Ginny shrugged. "Unfortunately, Harry doesn't really have a father I could have danced with," she said. "But, if you remember, I did dance with Kingsley, whom had stepped in as a father figure for Harry. As for the others, well… Maybe your lack of knowledge of Pureblood weddings made you not notice? I mean, that's not a slight against you, of course, but not having attended many traditional Pureblood weddings before, it would make sense that you don't know the protocol. Before Ron's wedding, you were always dancing and laughing with him. And you didn't go to his wedding."

"For good reason," Hermione said as she took a sip of her wine.

Ginny nodded. "That's my point. I think this is probably the first Wizard wedding that you've had an active role in. On a good note, unless you and Lucius have children, this will probably be the only wedding, aside from your own, that you will play much of an active role in."

"Ok, well, that's gross," Harry said as he took a pull from his drink. "Gin, I'm not drunk enough for this conversation."

"I have to concur with you, Potter," said a voice.

The three friends glanced to see Draco coming towards them. "Honestly. The last thing I want to think about during my wedding is my father procreating, Weaslette. I'll end up with nightmares," he said, though he smirked at Hermione.

The Muggleborn rolled her eyes as Ginny sniffed. "It's Ginny, not 'Weaslette'," she corrected.

Draco shrugged. "Don't care," he said dismissively as he turned his attention to Hermione. "I actually came here to see you, Granger. Would you mind joining me in a dance?"

Hermione folded her arms and looked at him. "You could try to be nicer to my friends," she stated.

He raised an eyebrow. "That was me being nice," he commented. "Look. I don't know if my father told you, but the two of us sharing a dance is important."

"I know."

He offered her his hand. "I promise I won't bite," he said.

She sniffed as she looked at his hand. "Of that I have no doubt. Both of my friends would hex you and your father would curse you," she replied.

"Well?"

"Hermione, not taking his hand could have some dire consequences," Ginny urged. "He may be a foul git, but it's best to get it done and over with."

"Oh, look. Ginger has a bigger brain than her brother. I'm impressed," Draco snarked with a smirk.

"Watch it, Malfoy," Harry growled as Ginny pointed her wand at the blond.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "There's no need for all of this," she said.

"Then take my hand," Draco whispered, "before people start noticing."

Glancing at Ginny hesitantly, Hermione placed her hand in Draco's and allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor. As they began the waltz, he hissed, "Sweet Salazar, woman! It's like plucking hippogriff feathers to get you to dance with me."

"This is the only dance we will have to do, correct?" she asked.

He shook his head. "You're marrying my father. So, we will have plenty more dances in the future, unless you change your mind," he told her.

"I won't."

"Good. My father's had enough heartache in his life. He doesn't need more," he said as he twirled her.

She looked up at him curiously. "Help me understand something, Malfoy," she requested. "Your vows and this binding. You're going through with all of this even though just weeks earlier you were trying to pursue me. What was that in the Ministry? Was it just some joke?"

Draco sighed. "Test, Granger. It was a test," he said as he raised an eyebrow. "You are courting my father. I needed to make sure you were serious about him."

She perked up. "A test? Seriously?"

He smirked. "Figures you'd be interested in anything educational," he huffed. "You were the one who mentioned not hurting him… I don't want him to be hurt. He had to go through enough with the Dark Lord and then my mum. Mind, they were both of his own doing, but…" His smile faltered as he turned her. When he brought her back to him, he stared down at her seriously. "I don't want to see him make another mistake."

Hermione tilted her head as she studied him. "So, it was an act? That day in the Ministry," she repeated. At his nod she pursed her lips. "And there is no secret crush you had for me?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Well…" he glanced away from her for a moment. "Honestly, Granger, there may have been a time when I found myself attracted to you," he admitted as he looked back at her. At her shocked expression, he chuckled. "That was a long time ago, however, and I have since moved passed it."

"And you never told me because…"

"Would you have believed me?" he asked as he looked at her curiously. At her frown, he continued, "Even if I had, and you did, what exactly would you have done about it, Granger? We were on opposite sides of the war and I was your bully for the entirety of our Hogwarts years."

"Obviously I know how to forgive someone," she pointed out. "I forgave your father, after all, and am marrying him."

A small smile graced his lips as his eyes crinkled in amusement. "Did you have a crush on me, Granger?" he asked.

Her eyes widened for a brief moment before she smiled herself. "Well, you were a cute eleven year old all the way until you opened your mouth."

"I missed my chance."

She shook her head. "You never had one," she told him. She nodded her head at where Lucius was dancing with Astoria. "And now you have someone who is perfect for you."

Draco glanced quickly at his father and wife and smiled. "I do," he agreed. "And I wouldn't trade her for anything or anyone. I don't even know how I got so lucky."

"You are not a bad guy, Draco," Hermione told him. "You have done some bad things, yes, but your choices weren't the most ideal. We were young. We all were. And, despite the years of bullying, you were quite sheltered. I can only imagine that you felt as though you had no choice. Voldemort was an evil, manipulative, sadistic bastard, so I don't blame you for what you did. In the end, you did the right things. You did not kill Dumbledore and you didn't snitch on Harry, Ron, and me."

"I didn't kno -."

"Bullshit," Hermione hissed, cutting him off. "We'd known one another for six years. We tormented one another for six years. Do you honestly expect me to believe that after six years a bit of dirt and a Stinging Hex was enough to hide Harry's true identity from you? That despite the dirt and Muggle attire you didn't recognize me immediately? Come off it. You knew who we were back then and we both know it."

Draco turned her again and licked his lips. "I could kiss you right now," he whispered, his lips barely moving.

"I could knee you right now, too," Hermione bit back.

He chuckled. "You know, Granger, you really are the brightest witch of our generation," he said. "Father had better watch out."

"Are you complimenting me?" she asked, a bit taken aback.

He shrugged. "Perhaps I've gotten soft in my old age?" he mused.

She gasped and popped him on the shoulder. "You are not old!" she said.

His eyes narrowed. "That is the second time you've hit me," he pointed out. "That better not become commonplace once you marry my father or we will have words."

She frowned, trying to remember when she had hit him before. Then she squared her jaw and lifted her chin. "Yes, well, you deserved it then and you deserve it now, and if you keep acting like a git… I'll inform Astoria of your wickedness and let her deal with you. Think she'll be kind?"

He laughed out loud. "Clever, Granger," he said through his chuckles. "Barely married and you're already threatening to tell my wife on me."

She shrugged. "No threat," she said.

He grinned. "I swear, Granger, you should have been in Slytherin," he said. "No wonder my father is so smitten with you."

She shook her head. "I'm Muggleborn. Slytherin would never have welcomed me."

"You'd be surprised," he told her. He looked at her curiously. "You're going to need instruction in how to function properly and maneuver in Pureblood Society."

"Your father is helping me out, as is Molly Weasley," she said.

He nodded. "I have all my old manuals and books from when I was in primary school."

She frowned. "Your father gave me his and they are about as helpful as a Blasted-Ended Skrewt."

He chuckled. "Of that I have no doubt," he agreed. "The ones I have are much more updated. They, I think, you will find more than helpful. And Astoria and I can fill in the blanks for you."

She frowned as she saw Mr. Greengrass approaching them from behind. Tapping Draco on the shoulder, the older man smiled at him. "Mind if I cut in?" He asked.

"Not at all," Draco said as he glanced back at Hermione. He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. "Think about what I said, Granger," he told her as he released her.

Confused and curious, Hermione curtsied to Draco. "I will," he promised.

She turned her attention to the new wizard. "Miss Granger?" He said as he bowed to her.

Offering him a brilliant smile, she curtsied to him. "Thank you for allowing me the pleasure of your company, Mr. Greengrass," she said as he took her hand and led her into the dance.

"The pleasure is all mine, my dear," he said kindly.

As they glided across the floor, his eyes widened in surprise. "I must say, Miss Granger, you dance very well for a Muggleborn."

Hermione bit back a retort as she answered, "My father taught me."

"I'm quite impressed," he told her and she could see he was being genuine. "Astoria has told me that the two of you have become quite good friends."

She nodded and smiled. "We have. Astoria is a lovely woman," she commented. "She's so kind, too."

"That she is," he said proudly. "Her mother and I did the best we could. I'm glad to hear that our efforts have paid off."

"I'm so happy for her, too," she told him.

"Did you know Draco as a child? Lucius told me you had been in the same year together," Mr. Greengrass said.

Hermione bit her lip and gave a wary smile. "I did," she confessed. "Though we didn't really know one another well, as I was a Gryffindor, and Draco was in Slytherin."

He nodded in understanding. "That's quite the rivalry. And from what I've read, you're one of the brightest witches of your age, which probably means you and Draco competed in school for the best grades," he surmised.

She giggled a little. "Well, he _tried_ to compete, at least," she confessed. "I did get the most OWLs and NEWTs for our year, beating out even Draco."

His smile was brilliant. "No doubt that was like tickling a sleeping dragon," he joked.

" _Draco_ is Latin for 'dragon'," she stated without thinking.

He nodded. "He gave you a hard time," he guessed. At her confused look, he elaborated, "I've known Lucius since we were children. The Malfoys have always been major supporters of You-Know-Who and were staunchly against Muggles and Muggleborns. Somehow, through all of that, Lucius and I did manage to become friends."

"Lucius told me a little about his time in school and admitted to having befriended you there," she said.

He sighed. "It was unfortunate his father held so much sway in his youth," he told her. "Abraxas Malfoy had been an early follower and confidant of the Dark Lord, though he had never taken the Mark. Lucius wanted so badly to impress his father, he did anything and everything."

"Just like Draco," she mused.

He nodded solemnly. "It is the dream of most young men to grow up to be just like their fathers," he said wisely.

"Thank God Lucius didn't," Hermione said, casting a glance towards the man in question.

Eugene followed her gaze curiously. "Oh, I don't know," he mused. When she looked back at him, the man shrugged. "Lucius is more like his father than he cares to let on, my dear. He's very conniving and manipulative when he wants to be. He's also an opportunist. Surely you don't believe he started courting you just because of your beauty? You're an intelligent young woman, Miss Granger. You also have the backing of the Ministry and are a decorated war hero. Those things say something."

"What are you saying?" she asked.

He offered her a soft smile. "I'm just shedding a bit of light onto your relationship," he informed her. "I've no doubt that Lucius is very much in love with you. As I've said, you're beautiful, intelligent, and quite the Slytherin in Gryffindor clothing. I also know how well Lucius can charm a person and cause them to not see what's right in front of their faces."

"Should I proceed with caution?"

"I don't think so," he said. "Well, maybe a little caution. Just be aware of what goes on and don't be afraid to call him out if you notice anything… unwelcomed."

As the song and dance ended, Mr. Greengrass bowed to the young witch and kissed the back of her hand. "I've no doubt in my mind that, one day soon, you and Lucius will marry. You make a beautiful couple and he can, and will, help you rise as far as you wish within the Ministry. He's as slick and cunning as any Slytherin, perhaps even more so."

She sighed as her mind ran through all he said. "I will keep that in mind," she told him.

As he released her hand, she hesitated. "Draco offered me some lessons on Pureblood Society," she said, watching him.

He gave her a smile. "Good," he commented. "From what Astoria has told me of him, he used to help his fellow Slytherins with their homework and such. He's quite the teacher."

She paused, though she thought about the fact that she, too, had often helped her fellow students with their homework, particularly Harry and Ron. Sometimes Neville, too. "Thank you, Mr. Greengrass."

"If I may, please, call me Eugene," he offered.

She smiled brightly at him. "And you may call me Hermione," she said. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Eugene."

"The pleasure is all mine," he assured her. "I look forward to, hopefully, a budding friendship."

She nodded as they parted. As she glanced about the ballroom, her eyes fell upon her fiance. She frowned. He seemed to be having a heated discussion with Narcissa. Taking a deep breath, Hermione took two champagne flutes from a passing elf and walked towards them.

(III)(III)

"We've had this discussion, Narcissa, and I am done," Lucius hissed, his eyes narrowing at his former wife.

The witch folded her arms. "I wonder how proud Abraxas would be of you if he were here right now," she stated.

He scoffed. "Do you honestly think that will work on me? He's been dead for years now."

"It matters not," she said. "I am your wife, Lucius."

" _Were_ ," he growled. "You were my wife. You aren't anymore, and you have that arm accessory you've worn all evening to thank for that."

"How dare you blame him!" she hissed. "Our marriage was over long before Enrique, and you know it! When you weren't drinking yourself into a stupor, you were fantasizing over that little harlot!"

Lucius raised an eyebrow. He felt a champagne flute touch his arm and glanced to see Hermione standing beside him. Looking around, he pinpointed Draco and Astoria across the room. Though they couldn't hear them, he still turned his attention back to his ex as he plucked the flute Hermione was offering him. "This isn't the time or place to be speaking of such matters," he tried as he straightened his robes.

Narcissa chuckled. "Oh, no, Lucius. Of course not. Merlin forbid your reputation gains any sort of damage. Oh, wait! It already did." She glanced at Hermione and her eyes narrowed. "What about you, little Mudblood? Enjoying my husband and my bed?"

Hermione frowned as Lucius stepped in front of her. "Get out of my house," he snarled at Narcissa. "It is not my reputation I am concerned for, but rather the embarrassment you are bestowing upon Draco during the celebration of his wedding. I have asked you several times today to not use that word, but I am done playing nice. If you don't leave, I will have Mr. Potter personally escort you out."

The sound of Narcissa's laughter rang through the ballroom, drawing the attentions of the other guests. Draco and Astoria glanced at the blonde witch and began making their way towards her. "Mr. Potter?" she laughed. "You're going to have Harry Potter escort me out of my own son's wedding reception? Honestly, Lucius, this little girl really has addled your brain."

"I didn't -"

"Shh," Lucius interrupted, throwing Hermione a warning look. He turned back to glare at his ex as his son approached them. Hermione snapped her mouth shut and glared at Lucius.

"What's going on?" Draco asked, looking from his mother to his father.

"Your mother was just telling me that she's tired and wants to leave," Lucius lied, his eyes daring Narcissa to disagree.

Narcissa lifted her chin and looked at Lucius through hooded eyes. "One day, Lucius, your lies will catch up to you," she warned as she let her eyes fall to Hermione. She gave the younger witch an evil smirk. "I'd be careful if I were you, dear. A snake may shed its skin, but it's still a snake in the grass."

With that, Narcissa walked up to her son, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and said, "Congratulations again, my love, on your wedding. I do wish you all the happiness in the world and hope you are a better husband than your father ever was." She cast Lucius one last, hateful glare, and left.

* * *

Author's Notes: Several thanks, as always, to both Elle Morgan-Black and cowgalnina! I love all the help you two have provided for me.

Also, if you enjoy Lumione stories, like this one, and have Facebook, check out the Facebook fan group I run with Silver Lioness, Elle, and cowgalnina called Elm & Vine!

As always, I appreciate your love and reviews, too! You keep me going.


	12. Chapter 11

As Hermione and Ginny stepped into the parlour, Draco handed the older witch a thick book. She looked at him curiously. "What's this?" she asked, as she turned the book over to see if there was a title. There wasn't one.

"Come with me, Granger," he said as he led the two women further into the manor and up the central staircase.

Still curious about the book, Hermione opened it as she followed the blond. "Gardening?" she questioned, glancing up at the back of his head.

He waved a dismissive hand in the air. "The book is inconsequential," he told her, walking down a long hallway.

She frowned. "Then why am I carrying it? It's heavy."

He glanced at her and smirked. "I thought you enjoyed carrying large books," he said. "All those times in school when I saw you…"

"I ought to chuck this at you, you git," she growled.

"Now, now, Granger," he said, wiggling a finger at her and tsking. "We don't want to damage books, do we?"

Her eyes narrowed.

"Oh, and do try to remember where we are going," he said as he led the witches down another hallway. "I would hate to have to explain to Father how you managed to get lost."

"Where is your father?" Hermione asked. She had thought he would be here today.

He shrugged. "He had to take care of some business at one of our apothecaries. He'll be back in time for dinner."

"How many apothecaries do you own?" Ginny asked, glancing around at the walls as they walked.

"A fair few," he answered vaguely.

They reached a room and both women were confused as they stepped inside. At first, Hermione thought it might be some sort of drawing room, or maybe study. It was brighter than she had expected, with it's soft beige furnishings and white painted walls. There were shelves along one wall to the left that were filled with books of all shapes and sizes. Between the shelves was a massive floor to ceiling window that lit up the entire room. The wall to the right had a massive, cheerful fireplace with a beautiful painting above the mantle of a herd of winged horses. In front of the fireplace were two overstuffed plush chairs.

In the heart of the room was a light maple wood table surrounded by matching cushioned chairs, big enough to sit eight people.

Draco paused and turned to the women. He smiled as they gazed around the room. "Granger, until such a time comes when Father calls you his wife, these will be your rooms," he explained. "You will, of course, be allowed to decorate them however you choose. If you wish for privacy or grow tired when you are here, you can come here to rest and relax. Father, however, is not allowed in here. He may knock to come and get you for whatever reason, but he cannot pass the threshold."

Hermione glanced behind her at the door they had gone through. "I don't understand," she said, looking back at him. "I don't intend to live here until we're married."

Draco shook his head and scoffed. "Of course not. I never said you were moving here," he pointed out. "Training can be stressful. Astoria and I will be trying to teach you, pretty much, everything we were taught since we were born. You're going to want to take a nap, rest, or even get away from us from time to time. Not only that, it will be much easier for Astoria and me to give you lessons without the prying eyes of my father. He can't come in here, which means he cannot disturb you or us while you are learning."

"Well, that's convenient," Ginny said, glancing at her friend.

Draco rolled his eyes, but spoke as if she hadn't said a word. "The fireplace is connected to the Floo Network," he continued. "More importantly, it is a direct line to your flat. So, on days that you are here, you can simply use this fireplace to return home, rather than going all the way to my father's study."

Hermione gazed around the room, taking in every detail. "You said 'rooms'," she commented. "What other rooms?"

He waved a hand towards the end of the room, beckoning her to follow him. When they reached the other side of the room, Hermione noticed there was a small wet bar against the wall. Next to the bar was another door. "This door leads to a bedroom," he explained. "Astoria insisted on giving you a separate room to store your clothing, of course."

He opened the door and they stepped inside. Hermione gasped at the four poster king-sized bed sitting in the middle of a room larger than her entire flat. Draco shrugged. "I know it's not very large," he said, "but I reckon once you and Father marry, you'll share his rooms, so I didn't really see the point -."

"'Not very large'?" Hermione repeated looking at him in astonishment. She glanced at the bedroom again.

Like the study, there was a fireplace against the wall with two armchairs in front of it. Between the armchairs was a chaise lounge and a small coffee table in front of that. The table, like the furniture in the study, was made of maple wood. The chairs and lounge were ivory and matched the bed.

There was a small maple wood wardrobe against the corner of the room to the far right, nestled between the fireplace a door.

There were two doors on the wall furthest from the trio and another door on the right wall before the fireplace and close to them. The wall on the left… well, there wasn't a wall on the left. Just a massive bay window with ivory curtains.

"If it gets too bright in here, you can adjust the curtains. When they completely cover the window, they block out the sun," Draco explained. "This door," he pointed to the door on the right closest to them, "leads to the hallway. Like the study, Father cannot pass the threshold of that door."

Curious, Hermione walked into the room to the window and looked out. "Is that a balcony?" she asked.

Draco nodded. "If you look, you can see some furniture out there as well, in case you decide you wish the lounge in the sun and read, or sit at the table and entertain your guests, like Ginger here," he told her.

She glanced back at the blond sardonically. "Let me guess. Your father can't pass the threshold there either, can he?" she asked rhetorically.

He frowned. "No, he can't. Although I don't know how he would get on the balcony," he said.

"Perhaps a broom? Or Apparation?" she suggested.

He shrugged. "Maybe?" he agreed. "Though I haven't seen him ride a broom in years, so I don't know why he would start now. Perhaps he could Apparate." He snapped his fingers. "That reminds me. This manor is huge and traversing it can become quite tiresome, especially if you and Astoria decide to go back and forth between our wings. Only family members can Apparate within the manor and grounds, so you won't be able to do so alone until you marry my father. Until then, you will need to rely on one of us."

"Why would I Apparate alone anywhere here?" Hermione asked.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You'd be surprised," he told her. "I will say that, even though Father cannot pass the threshold, he can stand on the balcony. So, he is welcomed to join you there, though I caution you from inviting him there alone. If you are alone with him, even on the balcony, Astoria and I will both be alerted, and one of us will be joining you soon after his arrival."

Hermione's eyes widened. "I beg your pardon?!" she demanded.

His eyes narrowed. "You're a virgin, Granger," he reminded her, "and Father isn't. The only thing keeping him from luring you into his bed is the fact that he wants to marry you, and a marriage between the two of you could become a permanent one, like Astoria and me. However, Father is also a man, learned in the ways of physical pleasure, and it's possible that he can get carried away while the two of you are amorous one evening. These safeguards prevent that from happening."

"You're talking of 'binding'," Hermione said, sighing. "I'm still not entirely sure I want to be bound to him."

"Why?" he asked, surprised.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't mistake me. A huge part of me wants to go through with it. I love your father. When I became reacquainted with him in the gardens, I was amazed by his generosity and altruism. I didn't know how kind and wonderful he could be, and, because of that, I want to be with him forever," she said as she leaned against one of the bed posts. She let her eyes fall onto the soft ivory duvet. "But then there's the logical part of me which cautions me from making such a hasty decision." She glanced at him. "What if something happens? Once we are bound to one another, that's it, right? There's no turning back. Even though I have no intention of ever leaving your father, there is no telling what will happen, say, five years from now. Truth is, as much as I love your father, what will happen if one of us dies? I do want children one day, and I want them with your father. But what happens if… I don't want to raise them alone."

"You won't be alone, Granger," Draco told her cautiously. He glanced at Ginny uneasily before turning back to the Muggleborn. "No matter what happens, once you and Father marry, you will be a member of this family, even if you never have children with him. And if something should happen that ends up leaving you with children and Father isn't here, I'll be here. Astoria and I both will be. And… if you tell anyone this, I will deny it vehemently, Astoria was correct when she voiced the fact that I was somewhat happy about you and my father marrying. I have always wanted a brother or sister. It took my parents years to have me, and they did try to give me a sibling, but Mother just couldn't. She would get pregnant, and then miscarry. The last time it happened, the pregnancy nearly cost her her life. I… didn't think I would ever get the chance of having a sibling, until now. So, don't worry about things like that. Malfoys stick together. We're loyal to one another. Even Mother is, though she denies it at the moment. You'll find that, once you and Father are married, her attitude towards you will change."

"What? She'll suddenly start liking the Mudblood witch half her age whom stole her husband from her?" Hermione questioned dubiously. "I highly doubt that, Malfoy."

Draco chuckled. "Actually, she'll probably thank you," he joked. He sighed and shrugged as he walked over to one of the armchairs and sat down in it. "Truth be told, and again I'll deny it if you mention it, but truth is,the Dark Lord's return put my parents' marriage on a downhill spiral. They both hated and loved that he was back, and for different reasons. While they both still carried their ideologies about Muggles, I think my being part of the equation changed things for them. I don't think my father ever wanted me to become a Death Eater and I know for certain my mother didn't. And even though she loved her sister, I don't think my mother really wanted my aunt to come back into our lives. But, Aunt Bella was still family, so when she escaped Azkaban, my mother welcomed her, which, for my father, I think, was a huge turning point in their relationship." He shrugged.

"Where's Astoria?" Ginny asked as she sat upon the chaise. Her eyes widened. "Oh. This is really comfortable."

Draco smirked and lifted an eyebrow. "What else would you expect?" He shrugged again. "Astoria is still unpacking from our honeymoon. She'll be along soon enough." He looked up at Hermione. Sitting up, he rested his elbows on his knees. "Granger, as part of your first lesson, I want you to balance that book on top of your head and pace the length of the fireplace."

Hermione's eyes widened as she looked down at the book in her hands. "You're joking," she said.

He leaned back in his chair and tilted his head. "Am I? A lady with perfect poise should be able to do it. Both Astoria and my mother can. Is it too difficult for you?"

She glared at the challenge in his eyes. Standing straight and tall, she lifted the book above her head. "This is ridiculous," she said as she tried to balance it on her head.

Draco stood and approached her. Circling her, he pressed one hand on her lower back and rested another on her shoulder. "Shoulders back, spine straight," he instructed as he pushed her into said position. He moved his hand to her chin. "And chin up. You aren't a servant, so keep your head up and eyes forward. If you need to look down for anything, do so with your eyes, not your head. Now, take your hands off the book and step forward confidently."

Taking a deep breath, Hermione closed her eyes and did so. Two steps later, the book tumbled off her head and she barely caught it.

Draco laughed. "Good. Good," he praised. "Don't worry. People rarely get it on their first try. Now," he moved back to his chair and sat down, "do it again."

Heaving a sigh, Hermione rolled her eyes and placed the book back on her head. And again, the book fell. Frustrated, Hermione growled as she tried again.

That was how Astoria found the trio thirty minutes later. Hermione's curls had gone wild by this point and her face was scrunched in irritation, yet she still hadn't managed to walk across the fireplace with the book balanced on her head. Astoria frowned as she approached the group.

"What are we doing?" she asked curiously.

Ginny waved at the Muggleborn. "Draco said that Hermione has to walk across the length of the fireplace with that book balanced on her head," she explained.

Astoria glanced at her husband in shock. "Draco Lucius!" she snapped. Her eyes went back to Hermione and, softening kindly, she approached the older witch. "Hermione, you don't have to do this," she assured. "My wayward husband is taking the mickey out on you."

As the book tumbled from her head again, Hermione looked at the younger witch in shock. "Seriously?"

Astoria nodded, her lips lifting in slight amusement. "I don't know a single witch who does this and it isn't part of our training."

Hermione threw the book at Draco. "You lousy son of a bitch!" she growled. "How dare you!"

He deftly caught the book and laughed. "I'm surprised at you, Granger. I thought you were smart." He shrugged as he tossed the book carelessly onto the coffee table. "It was nice to see you fail at something for a change."

Astoria gave him a dull look. "Draco, we're supposed to be _helping_ Hermione, not embarrassing her," she said.

"Alright, alright," he said, holding his hands up in surrender. He looked at the Muggleborn. "I probably shouldn't have done that, but you have to admit it was funny."

"Do they teach Pureblood aristocrats to apologize?" Hermione asked. "Because if they do, you _suck_ at it, Malfoy!"

He smirked. Looking at his wife, his smile dropped however and he sighed. "Look. Nevermind the balancing books trick. The rest of what I told you was true. When a lady walks, it is with poise and confidence. Head up, shoulders back, spine straight, and if you must look down, do so with your eyes, not your head," he told her.

"You also must be conscience of you choice of words," Astoria said as she sat primly upon the chaise next to Ginny. "A lady doesn't swear, and she shouldn't have any need to speak above the soft hum of a whisper. When she sits, it is on the edge of the seat with her feet tucked under her if she can. And always crossed at the ankle. Her hands rest gently in her lap unless she is serving or drinking tea."

Hermione sighed as she sat in the armchair opposite of Draco. She mimicked Astoria's posture easily and looked at the girl. "My mother taught me this when I was young," she explained. "Mostly because she didn't want me to get a hunched back, like we see of many of those people in America. I mean, she and my father did try to instill some ladylike qualities in me."

Astoria smiled softly. "Good. Then training should be much easier than Draco and I feared," she said. At Hermione's wide eyed expression, Astoria's face softened apologetically. "Forgive me, Hermione. As Purebloods, we know very little about Muggle customs and traditions. Having met your parents, I do know they are very fine people, even if we don't agree on everything. I'm still confused over this notion of an unwed couple living together before marriage."

"It hasn't alway been a Muggle tradition," Hermione admitted. "Though, I do believe that some time after the women's rights movement, it became more commonplace, particularly among the middle and lower classes."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "And there you have it, Astoria," he said as if that answered it all.

Hermione frowned. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Middle to lower class," he pointed out. "It means that the lower your class the less you have of it."

"Excuse me?" Ginny piped up, glaring at the wizard.

He shrugged, unperturbed. "It's not like you can help it. You're born into what you're born into, but if you haven't noticed, it is rare that those of lower classes ever aspire to be more than what they are. And those who do aren't looked highly upon or it becomes such a struggle to rise that they give up and return to their roots."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Hermione argued, glaring at him.

"Sure I do," he said, leaning back. "Minus, of course, the Weasley brood, just take a look. Both Crabbe and Goyle were lower class, and they didn't get very far in life. While Ginger's brothers, and Ginger herself, made something of themselves, her father still remains on the bottom of totem pole in the Ministry. No one _cares_ about his work and he doesn't do anything to make them care."

"Crabbe died, Malfoy, in case you forgot," Hermione spat.

"I didn't forget," he said, his brow furrowing. "I was there when it happened, as were you. Despite his death, Goyle still believes the Dark Lord was right about your kind. He wants nothing to do with all these new rules the Minister is putting in place and refuses to conform. So, he wastes away. Can't even get a girlfriend, much less a wife."

"People do care about my father's work," Ginny said, interrupting him. "How dare you suggest otherwise."

"No, they don't," he argued. Leaning forward, he looked at Ginny. "Your father still has a small office deep in the Ministry, buried out of sight. Why do you think that is?" He shook his head and held up a hand to silence her.

"The world is changing," he admitted, "but it hasn't completely changed yet. People _don't_ care about the misuse of Muggle artifacts because it doesn't pertain to them. They don't notice it because they don't see it. Have you ever seen an article on the front page about anything your father has done? Except when he gets a stick up his arse to raid my home? And even then, the papers don't paint him as kindly as you think. No, his 'raids' and 'findings' are relegated to the back of the pages, just like his office. They are small, with as few words as possible."

"Draco, you don't have to be rude," Astoria admonished.

He shook his head in denial. "I'm not being rude. Truth is, this entire fucking feud is because he spends more time focusing on my family rather than on doing his job. Instead of looking for a reason to raid my home, he should be looking into this black market where Muggle artifacts are being smuggled into our community and transfigured or otherwise spelled into items that can be dangerous to the general public."

He pointed an accusing finger at Hermione. "Did you know that he is currently trying to gain a warrant to search our home because the general public thinks my father has charmed you? The entire family has been tried and found not guilty, but that man won't bloody leave us alone!"

"He did no-"

"He did, Ginger," Draco cut her off. "You weren't here when he and his buddies came knocking at our door last week, wanting entrance into our home."

"Neither were you," she hissed. "You were on your honeymoon!"

"We were," Astoria said. She sighed. "Father Flooed us at three in the morning to alert Draco. By law, as rightful heir, Draco had to be here through the duration of the search. Thankfully, it only lasted a few hours, as this raid was unannounced and had a very narrow warrant. Father made Mr. Weasley stick what he had in the warrant, which was looking in the family potion's lab. Draco was able to return to me, but, it still happened."

Ginny stood and turned away, staring at the window unseeing. "My dad would never do something unwarranted. If he requested a warrant to search this home, he had to have a reason."

"Didn't you just hear me, Ginger?" Draco asked. "He wanted to see if my father had used something to trick Granger into falling in love with him."

"Can you blame him?" Ginny snapped. "Your father isn't a saint."

"And neither is yours, Ginger," the blond returned with venom. "The difference is my father doesn't pretend to be one."

"Not anymore…" she grumbled. "And my name's not 'Ginger', it's 'Ginny'."

He shrugged. "Still don't care," he said. "Either way, he had no reason to come to our home in the middle of the night."

"Apparently he and the Minister disagree," she said, staring at him. "Your father is engaged to a woman half his age, a woman who is one third of the Golden Trio and a high ranking Ministry official. There are still questions that haven't been answered."

"Those will be answered when Nott comes here next week," Draco stated. "Until then, your father needs to back off. If Granger really feared for her life, I highly doubt she would have allowed him to court her."

Hermione looked at him curiously. "Was that a compliment? Did Draco Malfoy just compliment me?" She asked in astonishment.

"Don't get used to it, Granger," he said. "What surprises me is that, as her best friends, you, Ginger, and your husband feel this need to try to sabotage their relationship instead of attempt to understand and accept it."

"I do accept their relationship!" Ginny protested angrily. "I have given Hermione my full support, in case you haven't noticed. I'm here with her because I am the only one who actually agrees with it!"

"And Potter?"

Ginny huffed and rolled her eyes. "I can't speak for my husband. There is a lot of bad blood there, you know this. Regardless of what is going on now, your father was a Death Eater, as were you, whether it was through choice or not. Not only that, but Lucius had spent years before Voldemort being an outright, snobbish bastard. As did you. You were a bully, a horrible, spoiled little bully who would cry to your daddy every time something didn't go your way. So, please, forgive Harry if he doesn't automatically accept this relationship. Acceptance takes time, understanding, and forgiveness."

"He's had, what? Three? Four months?" Draco said, glancing at Hermione.

The Muggleborn sighed. "Roughly three now," she admitted.

Draco's eyes focussed back on Ginny. "Sounds like he's being given plenty of time."

Hermione shook her head and cut in before Ginny could say any more. "It will take him more time," she said. "It's ok, Draco. I'm not looking for immediate acceptance. Harry's been through a lot. We all have. All I want right now is to get through these training sessions you and Astoria have devised for me so I can present myself properly into high class society. Although… I do question how important this training will be. As someone who is engaged to a Muggleborn, doesn't that make Lucius, well, a 'blood traitor'?"

Draco shrugged. "Maybe," he admitted. "But then again…" He glanced at the fireplace. "Things are changing. It used to be that the _Daily Prophet_ was the number one source of valid, proper news that we would receive from the Ministry. Now I am finding myself reading the _Quibbler_ more and the _Prophet_ far less. Looney has recently hired some very prolific journalists and, along with her father, they actually produce credible articles with real sources."

"Her name is Luna, not Looney," Hermione corrected.

"Still don't care," Draco said with a wave of his hand. "There was an article published recently that, thanks to my father's engagement, more Purebloods are started to court Half-bloods and even Muggleborns. It seems you and father are leading the way to the change that desperately needed to take place. Your union will end up saving many ancient families from dying off."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, I doubt that," she chuckled.

He looked at her for a moment, then shrugged. "I'm just going by what the _Quibbler_ said. For all I know, it could be fabricated to encourage more Purebloods to look at Muggleborns as potential mates. The Malfoys have always been trend setters, after all. 'If Lucius Malfoy can do it, so can I, blah, blah, blah.'"

"If that's the case, maybe denims will become a new trend too among witches and wizards," Hermione suggested. "Because who doesn't like a nice, comfortable pair of denims as opposed to trousers and skirts?"

Draco and Astoria both glanced at her with raised eyebrows. "The day you convince either myself or my father to wear a pair of denims is the day I will kiss an elf," he said.

Hermione smiled wickedly. "Challenge accepted."

* * *

 **Author's Note** : Many thanks again to my wonderful betas, Elle Morgan-Black and cowgalnina! Much thanks also to my wonderful readers who've favorited and/or reviewed this story. You are all brilliant!

Don't forget to review and let me know what you think. Yes, I know there is no Lucius in this chapter, but no worries! He'll be back in the next chapter.


	13. Chapter 12

Draco placed two books on the table in front of Hermione and sat across from her. He pointed at the books. "These may be a little… childish in reading, but these are the first books given to young wizards and witches in training. To understand our world, I do believe it is best we begin, well, from the beginning," he explained. He waved a hand at the bookshelf from whence he had gotten the books. "If you want, you can just follow the books, they're already in order. Whatever you don't understand, you can just ask Astoria or me. You do plan on dining with us tonight here at the Manor, yes?"

She nodded as she reached out to take the first book. "Lucius asked me if I could dine with the three of you for the next week or so," she told him.

He leaned back in his chair. "Good," he said, sighing. "Just so you know, I will be critiquing your mannerisms and etiquette."

"Why?" she asked with a frown.

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. "Because I want to know what needs correcting, if anything. Next month, Father will be hosting a dinner party with several of the branch managers within our company. He wants you to meet them, since, as his wife, you will be taking part in much of the decision making and goals within our company," he replied. "The last thing anyone wants is for any sort of folly to occur, like that day with the bags."

Her eyes widened. "That was _ONE_ time! Just one! And I apologized for it!" she insisted.

"All it takes is one time to insult an official unintentionally, and you've offended an entire party, Granger," Draco said as he leaned back in his chair. "Also, I might like to point out a folly you've already made, but given that your training has just started…"

She frowned. "And what, pray tell, is my folly?" she asked as she folded her arms.

He sighed and waved a hand. "I'm a guest in your rooms, yet I haven't been offered either tea or biscuits since I've been here."

"I didn't think I would have to offer tea and biscuits to you since this is your home," she pointed out.

"The Manor is my home, yes," he agreed. "But I wasn't talking about my home, Granger. I was talking about your rooms. You've invited me into your rooms for a training session. The least you could do, always, is to offer tea and biscuits. It's simple etiquette."

She looked about the room and her eyes landed on the wet bar. "Would you like some tea, Malfoy?" she asked sarcastically as she glared at him.

He raised an eyebrow. "Not with that attitude," he reprimanded her.

She stood, her face darkening in anger. "You were the one who sent me the owl to come here. You're the one who chastised me about not offering tea and biscuits. And now you claim that _I_ have an attitude?!"

"It's etiquette," he said.

"It's ridiculous!" she spat as she threw her hands in the air and turned her back to him.

He stood as well and walked around the table and around her so that she faced him. "Let me ask you something, Granger," he stated. "Say, I don't know, say Ginger sent you an owl and asked if she could come see you, that she had some things which she wished to speak to you. What would your response be?" he asked.

She glared at him. "Her name is Ginny," she hissed.

He shrugged. "Is that your response? To inform her of her name?"

"Of course not!"

"Then, what is your response?" he reiterated.

She took a deep breath and glared up at him. "I would tell her to come over," she said.

"And when she arrived?" he pressed.

She lifted her head arrogantly. "I would invite her to sit and ask if she would like some tea and bis…" She let the words fall away as her eyes widened and her mouth dropped.

He lifted a brow. "Am I not owed the same courtesy?" he asked.

She snapped her mouth shut. "You live here," she repeated. "Shouldn't you have asked me if I wanted tea and biscuits?"

"I owled you to ask if we could meet within your rooms. For the duration of your training, these rooms are considered your home. So, no, I don't live here. I live in the Manor," he argued.

"The Manor which is where my rooms are located. So, still a part -."

"Of your home," he interrupted her.

She folded her arms. "By your argument, I could move all my stuff in these rooms and live here just as easily as my own flat," she countered.

He shrugged. "You could, if you wished. Merlin knows it would please my father to no end," he said.

"I'm sure it would," she commented. "As much as I would like to, though, I won't. Not now. Besides, won't that cause scandal? 'Hermione Granger is living in Malfoy Manor.' Heavens know what the headlines to that would be."

He scoffed. "Which is why you don't live in the Manor, but my point is, Granger, that throughout the duration of your training and until the day you and Father are wed, these rooms are much like a second home to you. They should be treated as such. As you invited me into your rooms, so should you offer me tea and biscuits as if you were inviting me into your home. One day soon, this Manor will be your home, and not offering tea and biscuits would be considered rude and improper."

She sighed. "I suppose you have a point," she said. Looking up at him, she gave him a small smile. "Thank you for coming here today, Malfoy, and offering me this instruction. May I offer you some tea and biscuits?"

He returned her smile. "No, thank you, Miss Granger, though I do appreciate the gesture."

Her mouth opened as her eyes stared daggers at him. "What?! All that argument and you don't want tea and biscuits? What the bloody hell was the whole point in the argument to begin with?"

"It's the offer," he said dully. "It's etiquette. Your offer has little to do with my refusal."

"We just wasted all this time by arguing over something when you didn't even want it in the first place! Why waste the time if you didn't even want it?"

He shrugged. "Again. Etiquette. Courtesy. An offer is not an obligation to accept. An offer is simply polite. When you are in polite company, you are expected to make an offer. Your company has the option to either accept or refuse. Most people will accept, but not all. And they shouldn't feel obligated to do so."

"You are not polite company, Malfoy," she hissed. "And at this moment, you aren't even welcomed company. You're lucky I don't hex you right now."

He raised a brow and walked back over to the chair in which he had been sitting. "You've asked Astoria and me to help you prepare for your life with my father," he pointed out. "This is simply part of your training. Normally, such training is done by a governess, and I assure you one of those would be much harsher than I have been. Since you've come here today, you've been rude, crass, and immature."

"And you've been a right bloody arse!" she growled.

"Have I?" he asked, looking at her curiously.

"Get out," she snapped as she pointed at the door. "Get out before I hex you, you egotistical, arrogant ferret!"

"Our lesson is not finished."

"Like hell it isn't!" she hissed. "I will read these damn books and next time I'll ask for Astoria."

He smirked. "Very well. Have fun with that, though I would warn you, she's far more passive aggressive than I am. Word of advice, too, I would go through those clothes in your dressing room and wear one of those before you meet with her. She won't take kindly to your denim. Also, don't forget your meeting with Mrs. Nott later today and the supper tonight. The Manor elves are putting a lot of effort into the meal tonight and Father would be displeased if you show up in those rags."

Hermione snarled as she grabbed the closest object to her, which happened to be a vase of flowers, and threw it at him. He easily dodged it and it hit the carpeted floor, smashing and littering flowers and water all over it. He looked at the broken vase for a moment. He nodded once and looked at her.

"I've given you my warning," he told her. "If you don't heed it, prepare yourself for the consequences."

Before she could say anything, he Apparated away, leaving her alone in the room. She gave another frustrated growl and stomped into the bathroom so she could wash her face.

(II)(II)

Sighing, she placed the book down and glanced up at the clock. She had been reading for two hours, yet it felt as though it had been much longer. Stretching her arms and back, she yawned.

Fact was, the books were quite boring, and this was coming from someone who loved to read. The problem was how the book characterized Muggles, and their place within the world. It frustrated her, though it did answer a lot of questions she had about why Purebloods thought so poorly about the part of the world in which she had been born. Muggles were classified as barbaric, primitive, and uncouth. It was no wonder Eugene had been surprised by her knowledge of dancing.

She rubbed her tired eyes. Why did Draco want her to read this book? What was the point? Was he trying to make himself seem superior to her? To explain why he was superior? She stared at the book hatefully. She had thought Umbridge's book about defensive theory was bad, but this one took the cake.

Deciding she needed a break, Hermione pushed her chair back and stood, stretching her legs. After Draco had left, she had found herself inside the dressing room he had mentioned. Unconsciously, she found herself admiring the gowns and even trying them on. She had discarded her denim trousers, blouse, and trainers in favor of a cute bodice with a matching skirt and flats she had found. She hadn't meant to heed Draco's warning, of course, she just liked the ensemble.

She really needed to take a walk. An idea occurred to her and, before she could question herself, she stored her wand up her sleeve and slipped out of her study and into the hall. As she stepped into the hall, sconces lined up and down the hallway lit up to show her the path. A strange sense of adventure churned her stomach and she cautiously walked down the hall, admiring the dark wood of the walls as she walked. There really wasn't much of interest until she turned a corner and found herself in another hallway that seemed a little more cheery.

Her eyes lighting up, she wondered to herself if she would find a door to the back gardens. Given what she had seen in the Magical Gardens in London, she was immensely curious to see how the ones here looked. As she continued, noticing that every time she walked, more sconces would light up and sconces behind her dimmed and went out. It almost seemed as if the Manor were leading her somewhere, though upon inspection, and a little bit of testing, she found they just simply lit up to help light her way. To make it easier for her to navigate.

She had gone up a flight of stairs as curiosity rose within her. Her sense of adventure led her into a room that reminded her almost of a Greek temple. Or maybe some sort of museum? Along the walls were portraits of blond haired people, mostly men, dressed in elegant clothing and wearing almost identical expressions of pompous scrutiny. The middle of the room held large Corinthian columns and smaller Ionic columns that held white marble busts.

She was surprised by how quiet the portraits were being as she walked into the room. They really were nothing like Walburga Black, and she slowed her pace. Curious, she approached one of the portraits and looked up at it. The man in the portrait sneered down at her, but said nothing. Underneath the portrait was a platinum plaque with his name on it. "Abraxas Malfoy," she said, and then jumped as she heard her voice echo.

She glanced around before looking back up at him. "You're Lucius's father," she stated, keeping her voice soft. She smiled at him kindly.

"He looks just like you," she mused. "Although his hair is a bit longer, I suppose."

Abraxas had hair that ended at his shoulders. He continued to sneer at her, his eyes narrowing in a viciously dark way. She sighed and continued on. She smiled at the portrait of, what she supposed, was Lucius's mother. The woman in the portrait was breathtaking in Hermione's eyes, and she told her as much, though the portrait said nothing in return.

Feeling a little put out, Hermione's smile faltered as she continued on, looking idly at each portrait and admiring them. She stopped when she came to one whose name was Lucius Octavius Malfoy I. This man looked regal and held himself proudly, barely sparing her a glance. His dark blond, almost tawny coloured hair was pulled back with a blue bow, and his clothing reminded her of the old pictures of British officers. Surely a Malfoy hadn't been part of the Queen's guard?

"The man I was named after," said a voice that startled Hermione.

She spun on her heel and gasped. Lucius stood beside her and glanced up at the portrait. His eyes fell to hers and he offered her a grin. "I see you've found the hall of my ancestors," he said.

"I… did," she replied uncertainly. "I apologize for snooping, I just.."

He shrugged. "No matter," he said. "Eventually, I'm sure, you would've found them, if not by chance, then by a necessity of mine to introduce you to the heritage our children would obtain upon their arrival."

She wrinkled her nose. "You make it sound like an obligation," she told him.

He nodded and glanced back up at the portrait. "I do believe you might have liked this particular ancestor, and not just because we share a name."

She followed his gaze. "Perhaps I would. In fact, I'd probably like them all if they spoke to me."

He chuckled. "Oh, I doubt that, darling," he said as he offered her his arm and they continued their perusal. "Many of my ancestors did not care for Muggles or Muggleborns. As you know, I am sure, many Purebloods believe that Muggleborns are unnatural and do not condone the mixing of blood. Lucius I was considerably different, like myself, among our bloodline. Like myself, he, too, had pursued someone of a Muggle bloodline. The Queen of England, Elizabeth I."

"Why does that not surprise me?" she said with a smile, as the man in the portrait's outfit began to make sense. "If you're going to pursue a Muggle, might as well be the most important one, right? How on earth did he even know she was available or even existed?"

"Wizards weren't always tucked away from Muggles," he pointed out. "History of Magic should have taught you at least that much, and if not, I'm sure one of the books Draco provided does."

She glanced away and shook her head. "Oh, yes. Those books certainly do teach me a lot. I've only read one so far and it was more than enough to boil my blood."

He looked at her curiously. "Does the travesty of the Muggles really upset you that badly?" he asked, a bit surprised that she had turned to his way of thinking so quickly.

"No," she said. "I was actually referring to the amount of brainwashing that book had within it. Muggles are not nearly as primitive as that book made them out to seem. And anyone who has been around Muggles would know it. I mean, you've met my parents. Did they seem primitive or somehow 'unclean' to you?"

"Of course not, but the fact that they have accepted you for who you are, quite frankly, astonishes me," he admitted. "I will also say, overall, my experience with them has been quite educational. Most Muggles aren't that accepting of our kind."

"How would you know?" she asked in annoyance, though she was inwardly pleased that he had referred to the Wizarding community in that all encompassing way that included her.

He led her out of the chamber and down the grand staircase. "You would be surprised. Those books Draco has given you talk more about the history between Muggles and Wizards than I ever could, and they are better at the explanations. I will suffice it to say that Lucius I was, quite possibly, one of the only Malfoys, besides myself, to ever traverse within the Muggle Community. When the Statute of Secrecy was established in 1689, the Malfoys were one of the leading bloodlines in favour of it," he explained.

"But why? Surely there is some way that wizards and muggles can co-exist," she responded.

"There is, and we've existed like this quite well for many years," he pointed out.

"I meant 'exist together', like my parents and me," she urged.

He frowned and looked at her outfit. The blue and white bodice and skirt combo worked well for her. "You look beautiful, darling," he told her.

She pointed at him. "Flattery will not change the subject," she said, trying to sound stern.

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. "Nor was that my intention. I'm merely stalling to figure out the best way to answer your inquiry," he replied.

"The truth would be a good place to start," she commented.

"So would your knowledge on history," he bit back with a grimace. "The fact is, my darling, we are all human. Muggles, Wizards… we all exist with the same basic biological makeup. The difference lies within one human's ability to perform magic and see the magical part of our world and the other human's lack of such abilities. This… gift that has been bestowed upon us tends to send a certain wave of jealousy, or feeling of ineptitude, among those who haven't been given it. Before the Statute was implemented, many people died. While these witch-hunts didn't always yield an actual witch or wizard, they did yield enough. Some witches and wizards were smart and were able to out-maneuver their Muggle captors. Others weren't so lucky. Many lives were lost, and not just of our kind, but of the Muggles as well. Men, women, and even children were burned at the stake, hanged, or a number of other horrendous things. The human mind can be quite creative in it's way of thinking up punishments."

"Which is why we have Unforgivables," Hermione said, looking at him as he led her into the main drawing room.

He stopped and studied her. "Why, exactly, do you believe the Unforgivables were created in the first place?" he asked. "Have you read the history of them?"

"No," she told him. "There are no books -."

"Ah," he said knowingly. "And yet, there are, if you know where to look."

She stared at him, her curiosity piqued. Did he have such books? Did the Ministry know? Would he allow her to read them? Maybe if she promised him that she wouldn't rat him out, he would?

He helped her to sit down in a chaise as his son and daughter-in-law entered the room. Draco was still fixing his tie as he glared at Hermione. "Granger," he snapped, "you were told not to leave your rooms unless escorted by either Astoria or myself! You cannot go gallivanting off to Merlin knows where in this Manor unacco-."

"Draco, do sit down," Lucius interrupted. "And there is no need for that tone when speaking to my fiancée."

"But, Father -."

"Your father is correct, my love," Astoria said as she joined Hermione on the chaise. "We're going to have company soon and it would be unseemly to chastise Hermione in front of guests."

Draco took a deep breath. "I need a drink," he said as he made his way to the bar.

"May I offer you some tea, Draco?" Hermione asked, batting her eyes innocently at Draco.

His eyes narrowed as he glared at her. "No, thank you," he growled.

Hermione smiled and nodded her head pleasantly as she glanced at Astoria. The younger witch looked from her to Draco in confusion for a moment. Looking back at Hermione, she asked, "Do I want to know?"

"Know what?" Hermione returned, acting completely clueless. "Oh, I did get to see the hall of Malfoy ancestors today after reading that deplorable book."

Astoria's eyes widened. "You went there by yourself?"

Hermione nodded. "Oh yes. I will say the hall looked brilliant and Lucius's mum is beautiful. I told her that, but either she didn't hear me or she ignored me."

"She couldn't speak," Lucius informed her as he poured himself a snifter of brandy.

"Was she deaf?" Hermione asked as she looked at him.

He chuckled. "I wish," he mumbled. He took a sip of his drink and elaborated, "No. I silenced them all so they couldn't talk."

"Why in heaven's name would you do that?" she questioned, looking at him in surprise.

He shrugged, but it was Draco who answered, "After they found out that Father was courting a Muggleborn, they couldn't shut up about it. The wailing was keeping us awake at night."

Hermione frowned. She looked at Lucius. "Didn't you say the one Malfoy, Lucius I, was more amiable to Muggleborns?"

"Muggles, yes," Lucius said. "Though I assume he is amiable to Muggleborns as well."

"That doesn't really stop the others from vocalizing their distaste," Draco stated, reasonably.

"Maybe do a test?" she suggested. "Let him speak and see what he says. If he's amiable towards me, perhaps we can move his portrait to a more open place, somewhere he can be seen and can see? Reward the good behaviour, perhaps." She shrugged. "It's a thought at least and it would be nice to see some life on the wall."

"It's a thought," Lucius agreed. "Perhaps we can see after…" He paused as Poppet, the house elf popped into the room.

"Master, Mr. and Mrs. Theodore Nott are here to see you, sir," she said as she bowed to him.

Lucius gave her a nod. "Bring them in here, Poppet," he told her.

"Yes, Master," she said as she popped out of the room.

Astoria stood as the elf left and looked to the Muggleborn. "Hermione, you should move to the sofa so Father can sit beside you," she suggested as she moved to one of the armchairs and sat primly upon it.

Hermione nodded. As she stood, Lucius pulled his wand out of his cane and waved it at one of the armchairs, the one opposite of Astoria, and transfigured it into a matching loveseat.

"Oh! That looks lovely, Father," Astoria praised, smiling and clapping her hands together as Draco joined her, perching himself on the arm of her chair with a snifter of brandy in his hand.

As Theodore and Luna entered the room, Draco stood. He and Lucius both glanced at the couple. Grinning, Hermione met the couple halfway. "Luna, I'm so happy to see you," the brunette stated as she hugged the girl.

"Oh, this is nice," the blonde haired girl said wistfully as she returned Hermione's hug.

Lucius sidled up beside his fiancée and shook hands with Theo. "Welcome to our home, Mr. Nott," he said cordially.

Theodore grinned. "An invitation from Lucius Malfoy and Hermione Granger? How could we have possibly passed it up?," he commented as Draco joined them and shook hands with Theo as well.

"Hm… Yes, well, Mrs. Nott is a dear friend of my fiancée, so she will always be welcomed," Lucius replied as he leaned upon his cane.

Astoria joined the small group and clasped hands with Luna, leaning in as they kissed one another's cheeks.

"This looks so much better than the cellar," Luna mused as she looked about the drawing room.

Hermione gave her a patient smile and rolled her eyes. "Much cleaner, too, no doubt," she said sardonically. She gave a weak chuckle. "You should see the grounds. I do believe there are some chairs in the back garden, right, Lucius?" She asked, turning to the older wizard hopefully.

He looked at her curiously for a moment. "Yes, of course," he said and offering her his arm. "Shall we adjourn to the gardens?"

Hermione's smile widened as she glanced at her willowy friend. "I think you're going to love this," she promised. She glanced around quickly. "Oh, and maybe Poppet could bring us some refreshments, love?"

Lucius glanced at her in amusement. "Of course, darling," he agreed. "Poppet!"

When the elf appeared and bowed, Lucius instructed, "Would you please bring us some refreshments to the back gardens?"

"Yes, Master," the elf agreed with another bow.

Hermione leaned into Lucius affectionately. "Thank you," she said, looking up at him. Standing on her tiptoes, she reached up and kissed his cheek. "It's such a beautiful day outside, it would be a shame to waste it."

Astoria glanced at her husband with a raised eyebrow. Draco frowned as he watched the Muggleborn. Taking a deep breath, he offered his wife his arm and followed the Muggleborn and his father.

Hermione glanced back to Luna and gave her a wide grin, to which Luna returned. "I haven't seen you this happy, Hermione, since… Well, I suppose since James Sirius was born," the witch said conversationally. "Actually, I take that back. This is a different sort of happiness, I believe. Did you find a way to stave off the Nargles?"

Hermione chuckled and shook her head. "Not quite," she told her friend.

They spoke a bit more about non-consequential things as Lucius led the group down a cobblestone path into the gardens and to an octagonal table that sat beside a large Roman water fountain. The fountain, which seemed to be the main attraction of the gardens, sported a sculpture of Neptune in the middle of it atop a large hippocampus that spit out water. Beside Neptune was a beautiful female who stood within a clam and covered her breast with a hand. Hermione's assumption had been right. The gardens were beautiful and she could imagine herself just coming here for nothing more than to read and relax.. It really was as grandiose as Hermione had expected of a Malfoy garden, with its Roman and Greek marble statues and large, perfectly blooming flowers . What surprised her the most, however, were the various types of daisies that coloured the gardens.

"Is that Venus beside Neptune?" Hermione asked Lucius, looking up at him.

He nodded with a smile. "My great grandfather had it commissioned as a birthday present for my great grandmother in the mid-eighteen hundreds," he explained.

"It's beautiful," Hermione stated as she gazed at the fountain in admiration.

"Lovely," Luna sighed as Theo brought her to the white wooden picnic table and helped her to sit on one of the benches.

In the center of the table was a china tea set with a tray of pastries. The table was shaded by a large oak tree that stood sentinel and proud.

Hermione couldn't stop smiling. She had thought the Magical Gardens were amazing, but this garden floored her. The light scent from the trees and flowers was fragrant and as Lucius helped her to her seat, she set out the small plates and tea cups and began offering everyone tea.

Once Astoria was seated, the men sat. Lucius couldn't take his eyes off of Hermione. He watched as she served the tea and passed around the pastries. She hadn't been asked to do so, she just… did it. His decision to make her his wife solidified even more in his mind. She would make a perfect wife. The sun peeked through the leaves of the tree and gave Hermione's hair a soft, golden glow. It was heavenly, and Lucius found himself thanking gods he hadn't believed in since he was a boy.

"So, Hermione," Luna said, suddenly becoming business-like, "I know you'd met Mr. Malfoy when you were younger, and I know he fought on the opposite side of the war. He was a Death Eater. My question, therefore, is, what changed? Obviously you were reunited?"

Hermione chewed and swallowed the biscuit she had been eating before she answered, "Do you know that new Magical Garden that opened in London outside of Diagon Alley?" At Luna's nod, she continued, "I'd been going there since it opened, and, well, one day, while sitting on one of the benches, reading, it started raining…"

Luna listened gently as Hermione told her tale. Every now and then she would ask a question, to which either Hermione or Lucius would answer, but for the most part, she simply took notes and let Hermione talk.

"It sounds like quite the whirlwind romance," Luna commented as she gave her friend a kind smile.

Hermione sighed. "It has been," she agreed. "Honestly, I'm still trying to wrap my mind around all of it."

The blonde nodded. "During Draco and Astoria's wedding, you were wearing that ring on your finger, Hermione. Mind telling me about it?" she asked.

The Muggleborn placed her hand on top of Lucius's and he smiled at her. Turning his wrist ever so slightly, he took her hand into his and squeezed it gently. "Lucius proposed to me, here at the manor," she told Luna. Looking at her friend, her smile widened. "It was so brilliant, too. My parents were here. We had just returned from attending a football game and Lucius had asked my father for his blessing. When my father gave it, Lucius came to me and, in front of my parents, Draco, Astoria, and Molly, he proposed!"

"Aren't your parents Muggles?" Theo inquired.

Hermione frowned. "Yes, why?" she asked, squaring her jaw and preparing in case he said something.

He shrugged. "No reason really," he said. "I suppose I simply had never heard of any Muggles coming to Malfoy Manor before. It seems… unprecedented."

"There are a lot of things that has been done in this manor which are unprecedented," Lucius commented. "Of them all, inviting Muggles is the tamest."

Theo chuckled. "No doubt. They were probably the friendliest of the unprecedented things, too."

Hermione relaxed and leaned back against Lucius. "He was so charming," she said idly as she patted Lucius;s arm affectionately. "With the kind why he spoke to and treated my parents. You'd never have known he once believed in those outdated mythologies about Muggles."

A silence fell over them with the sound of Luna's quill being the only noise. Lucius frowned as he glanced at his empty tea cup. She still thought they were "outdated mythologies"? Sure, as he began learning more about Muggles, he could easily concede that they weren't all atrocious jealous cowards, but he had read about the Muggle wars and the things they've been known to do to their own kind, much less wizards and witches.

"I'm surprised you'd say that, Granger," Draco said before he emptied his own tea cup.

When she didn't answer right away, Lucius gazed down at her to see that she was nibbling on a biscuit. She shrugged in response to Draco's comment. "It's the truth, or at the very least, I do hope it's becoming that way," she said, looking up at Lucius. "Just a couple of weeks ago, I saw Lucius standing in Flourish & Blotts, pouring over books about football. Then, he invited my parents and me to a football game. He held himself with dignity and bestowed the same amount of respect to my parents that he would any other person he would consider his equal."

Luna nodded absently. "May I ask if a date has been set yet?" she inquired, looking at the couple to see them smiling at one another.

Hermione shook her head, drawing her attention back to her friend. "Not yet, but I do know we are thinking soon."

"I actually wanted to speak to you about that, darling," Lucius said, looking at his fiancée. When she glanced at him, he asked, "What do you think of the 22nd of September?"

Her brow furrowed. "Of this year?" she clarified questioningly.

He nodded. "It will be the Autumn Equinox, which I do believe would be rather fitting, don't you?"

Hermione bit her bottom lip. "That's a bit soon, isn't it, though? And my birthday is in September, too," she pointed out. "I did read that it is traditional for Pureblood couples to wed during magically powerful days, but does it have to be on _that_ day?"

"The Autumn Equinox is the start of the Autumn harvest, Granger," Draco drolled. "Usually when Wizarding couples marry, it is during the high holidays, either during Beltane or the Autumn Equinox as, it is believed, those are the two most magically powerful days of the year. If you and Father intend to bind, that would be the best time to do so as the magic generated will be at its greatest."

"I know Beltane and the Autumn Equinox are, supposedly, powerful days. And yet you did not marry on Beltane," Hermione mused, looking at Draco. "In fact, unless I'm mistaken, you married after Beltane, so…"

"Well, really, any holiday would work," Luna surmised. "Beltane and the Autumn Equinox are simply the two most fertile days. Theodore and I married on the Summer Solstice, and I must say, it was a wonderful ceremony. If you're worried about it being so close to your birthday, Hermione, why not Samhain?"

"Samhain is on my birthday," Lucius pointed out. He glanced at Hermione. "Darling, your birthday is on the nineteenth, correct? That will give us plenty of time to celebrate your birthday and still have the wedding a few days later."

"What about next Imbolc?" Hermione questioned. "That would give me time to learn more about these high society things and it doesn't fall on anyone's birthday."

Lucius frowned slightly. Imbolc was the first of February. Which would mean he would have to wait an entire year before he had sex again. "Imbolc?" he repeated, warily.

He stared at her, thinking it over. Waiting a year for sex wasn't something he looked forward to, in fact, he loathed the idea.

"Hermione," Astoria said softly, "forgive me, but you do realize that you can continue your studies once you and Father are married, right? Draco and I can help you prepare for the wedding and ensure everything goes smoothly, and once you are married, well, honestly, learning about Pureblood society will be even easier, as you would live here."

"She's right," Lucius reasoned. "You'll be here and we'll be married, so you would be able to study in peace without constantly being interrupted."

Hermione stared at him in surprise. "You wouldn't interrupt me?" she asked with a sly grin

Lucius lifted his chin arrogantly, playfully. "Of course not," he readily lied. "Unless it interferes with your meals, which often tends to happen when you start reading."

"It does not!" the Muggleborn protested.

He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. "And what, exactly, were you doing when I found you in the Magical Gardens?" the patriarch questioned.

"Reading," she answered. At his smirk, she narrowed her eyes. "It was my day off. I'm allowed to read on my days off."

"You're allowed to read any time you want," Lucius easily agreed.

"Usually I like to read in bed," she commented, tapping her chin. "With the lights down low and a bit of incense in the air, maybe some soft music playing."

"Well, if you're going to do that, I may just need to recant the notion of reading _anywhere_ ," Lucius stated, as he felt his body reacting to her words.

"Sweet Salazar!" Draco interrupted. "I do not need to hear about the two of you shagging!"

"Draco, you need to watch your tongue in the presence of ladies," Lucius warned.

The younger Malfoy glared daggers at his father. "Believe me. They've heard worse," he said as he turned back to Hermione. "What the two of you do in the bedroom is none of anyone's business and I certainly don't want to hear about it."

"I wasn't speaking of anything in a sensual nature, Draco," Lucius continued, giving his son a look. "However, if I know Hermione well enough, there isn't a doubt in my mind that she would stay up until the wee hours of the morning, reading." He looked at the Muggleborn for confirmation.

Hermione blushed, but folded her arms defiantly. She pinched her lips. "So, you think four months is long enough to plan and execute a wedding as well as work on my studies of Pureblood Society and actually work in the Ministry?" she challenged haughtily.

Draco raised an eyebrow as he studied her. "Merlin's beard, Father, I think you were right," he said. He indicated Hermione with his hand. "Blimey bint is perfect for you. She's even managed to imitate your expressions."

"Draco," Lucius snapped.

Draco scoffed as he sat back down on the bench. "Look, Granger. Whether you get married on the Autumn Equinox or wait for Imbolc, you will still have to juggle wedding planning, your studies, and the Ministry, so what difference does that make? However, if you marry in the Autumn, it'll be quicker and by the time Imbloc gets here, you will only have to worry about work at the Ministry, if that's still something you want to do."

She gave him a confused look. "What do you mean?" she asked.

He shrugged as he sat back on his bench. "You'll be married to one of the richest Wizards in all of Britain for one," he pointed out. "Also, don't forget, we do have Malfoy Enterprises. Once you marry Father, I wager he'll want to take you to our various branches so you can see what we do. You might decide to become part of the company, in which case, working at the Ministry will become moot and a huge burden."

"Those are all things we can discuss at a later date," Lucius said, trying to regain control of the conversation. He looked at the brunette witch. "The choice, ultimately, is yours. I only thought of the Autumn Equinox because of how beautiful the gardens and gazebo are during that time of year. You're a beautiful woman, my love, and the colours of Autumn remind me of you."

She turned to him. "They do?" she asked.

He smiled as he took her hands into his. "They do," he confirmed. "As I look into your eyes, I am reminded of warm cider on a brisk Autumn morning. And when I see the leaves of the trees changing colours for the season, I am reminded of your bountiful curls and long to run my fingers through them."

His words and the deep lyrical chime of his voice sent butterflies straight to her stomach. She smiled. "You see my hair and you want to run your fingers through the leaves of a tree?" she teased, smiling.

He stopped. What? "No…" he said, wondering how she could misunderstand. "I see the leaves on the trees changing colours and want to run my fingers through your hair."

"So, my hair is brittle like the Autumn leaves?"

"I…" he hesitated and dropped his hands. How in heaven's name did she get that from what he had said? "No. That's not what I meant. I meant…"

She chuckled. "Goodness, Lucius, I've never seen you look so flustered," she joked, touching his cheek.

He frowned. He had a very distinct feeling she was making fun of him. That wasn't how the conversation was supposed to go at all. He shook his head. "My point is -."

"I didn't know your birthday was on the 31st of October," she mused, interrupting him and changing the subject.

"It's not," he said, agitated that she had interrupted him yet again. "It's on the first of November."

"But isn't Samhain also known as Halloween, which is on the 31st of October?" she inquired.

"Samhain begins at sundown on the 31st and ends at sundown on the 1st," Lucius explained, growing weary with the conversation. "As Draco said, the Autumn Equinox is one of the most powerful days of the year. A binding ceremony will work better on that day."

"I'm still not certain of this whole binding thing," Hermione commented as she reached for the tea kettle to pour herself another cup. "Would you like more tea, darling?"

He sighed as he glanced at the dwindling rays of the sun. "No, thank you. Actually, if I'm guessing the time correctly, it's nearly time for supper. Shall we return to the Manor so we can ready ourselves?"

Hermione followed his glance and nodded. "Yes," she agreed as she set the kettle down. She looked at Luna. "Would you and Theodore care to join us?"

Draco sighed as he stood and held out a hand to his wife. "Yeah," he drolled, faintly sardonically. "You definitely made the right choice, Father."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Many thanks, as always, to my brilliant betas, **Elle Morgan-Black** and **cowgalnina**. Also, many thanks to my wonderful readers for your love and reviews.

The "poetry" (if you wanna call it that) Lucius spouts about Autumn leaves, etc, is just some fun I was having and has no basis in any works of art.

So, what did you think? Ready to know what happens next? Personally, I'm immensely curious about Lucius I.


	14. Chapter 13

Hermione ran a hand over her face as she, Luna, and Astoria walked into her private bedroom. "It's been a day," she said, mostly to herself.

"It does look like Wrackspurts have started buzzing around your head," Luna observed. "Would you like to talk about it?"

The Muggleborn gave the younger witch a dull look. "Luna, I highly doubt my frustrations have anything to do with one of your invisible pests," she stated tiredly.

She sauntered across the room and let herself fall tiredly onto the bed. "How much longer before we have to get ready for dinner?" she asked, knowing Astoria was there as well.

"We should be getting ready now," the witch replied. "I do hope you don't intend to wear that dress, though, Hermione." As the Muggleborn sat up and looked at her in surprise, the blonde clarified, "It's a lovely dress for daily wear, however, for dinner, it is always better to go a bit more formal."

Hermione nodded. She sat up and glanced about the room. Sighing, she stood and, crawling over the bed to the other side of it and hopping off, she went to the dressing room. "Luna," she called as she walked into the room, "if you'd like, you may borrow one of my dresses to wear tonight. I honestly think Ginny and Astoria went a bit crazy the other day."

Astoria frowned as she and Luna followed the older witch into the room. "I wouldn't say that," she commented. "You're a lovely woman, Hermione. You take too little pride in yourself and your appearance. As a Malfoy wife, you will always need to look your best, for the Malfoys will only accept the best."

Astoria moved beside Hermione and touched her shoulder, drawing Hermione's full attention to her. "There's a reason Father loves you," she pressed. "Several reasons, actually, and one of them is because he knows how beautiful you are, both on the inside and out."

"Then he should be happy with whatever I wear. Clothes don't make the person," Hermione pointed out as she selected a rose coloured dress.

"You're correct. Clothes don't make the person," Astoria agreed. "However, the state of your clothing and what you choose to wear, does give a reflection of the type of person you are. Once you and Father marry, you will become a member of one of the richest, oldest bloodlines in all of Britain. You, like myself, will be a representative of this family. You will need to dress the part."

"I can represent this family in a pair of nice trousers and a blouse just as easily as I can in a full length formal gown," Hermione argued.

Astoria tilted her head. "Really?" She wondered aloud. She touched her chin thoughtfully. "I suppose that could work," she admitted. "However, it would look a bit odd for you to be wearing trousers and a blouse when your husband is wearing formal robes."

"Then I will put on robes!" Hermione hissed, agitated. "My point is, I don't need a dress to represent this family."

Astoria took a deep breath. "I'm not going to argue with you," she said calmly. "How you dress really is between you and Father. I am simply here to give you advice and inform you of proper protocol. You asked for Draco and me to teach you about Pureblood society, to help you become a proper Malfoy wife. This is all I am doing. We are willing to give you the tools and guidelines you need to succeed in this family. It is up to you to use them."

"Oh, this is lovely," Luna interrupted as she took a dress down.

Hermione and Astoria both looked at the Ravenclaw to see her holding a yellow dress with pink piping along the seams. Astoria frowned. "I don't remember selecting that gown."

"I don't think you did," Hermione responded as she looked at the dress and shrugged.

Astoria waved a hand towards the door to the bedroom and smiled politely at the airy witch as Luna gathered the dress and walked into the bedroom to change. She watched as the girl walked out of the closet and gently closed the door behind her. After the door was closed, she turned back to Hermione.

The Gryffindor selected a maroon gown and smiled fondly at it. She walked to the dressing screen and stepped behind it with her dress in hand. "I still don't understand the point in having to wear a dress. A pair of dress trousers should be good enough."

Astoria sighed. "Do you think Father will be pleased if you wore dress trousers as opposed to a dress?" She asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes in annoyance as she changed from the blue ensemble and into her maroon dress. "Does it matter?" she asked. "I'm going to wear a dress tonight. My point is, I don't see why I couldn't wear dress trousers. And why do you call Lucius 'Father'?"

She used her wand to tighten and secure the dress and then stepped around the screen. Astoria blinked at her. "He's Draco's father, which makes him my father through marriage, so calling him 'Father' is appropriate. Also, you're Father's fiancée, and a lady," Astoria said tiredly. "If you were to go for a horse ride, then wearing trousers would be fine, however, a lady should never wear trousers to dinner. It just isn't proper."

"This isn't the eighteenth century anymore," Hermione said. "Times change. Isn't it time for some traditions to change, too? Become more updated? Also, I'm going to be your stepmother-in-law. It just seems strange to hear you call him 'father', especially in private conversation. Why can't you just call him by his given name?"

Astoria shrugged. "Draco calls him 'father' all the time and with us being married, we are basically an extension of one another. He calls my father 'Father' as well. As far as changes go, isn't that what you and Father are doing? I mean, I don't recall any point in the history of the Malfoy bloodline where a Malfoy patriarch married a Muggleborn. And he did speak of the possibility of producing children with you, too. Honestly, this whole affair is extraordinary as it is. I would think that the least we could do is to accept some traditions, like wearing dresses during our meals. To argue otherwise comes off as a bit petty, don't you think?"

"You make it sound like he's sacrificing something," Hermione hissed, narrowing her eyes.

"Not at all," Astoria responded. "If anything, it is you who is sacrificing more than anyone, but this is still a lot. I mean, you heard what Draco said, about the hall of Malfoy ancestors and the reason Father silenced them?"

"If silencing them keeps them from spouting hateful, bigoted bullshit, then I'm glad he did it!" Hermione stated.

"And I agree with you," Astoria replied. "But they are only portraits on a wall. Hermione, when you go out there in the world as Hermione Malfoy, you will be representing this family, which means that people, all people, will begin to scrutinize everything about you. Your walk, your dress, your talk, the way you present and carry yourself. All these things, things that may never have mattered before, will suddenly... matter."

"I don't care about impressing the general public," Hermione said as she left the dressing room.

"You will," Astoria warned with a displeasing frown and followed her. "The Malfoys may be in disgrace due to Draco and Father's actions in the war, but that won't last. Already production within Malfoy Industries have begun to rise. Part of that is because people know that Father is courting you. When Luna leaves this evening, and her paper prints out that the two of you are engaged, I predict production will soar."

"Because Lucius is marrying a war hero," Hermione surmised.

Astoria shook her head. "Not because you're a war hero. It's because you're a Muggleborn. Don't you get it, Hermione? People _do_ want to see change. They want to see that the Minister is right, and that this is a good thing. Purebloods and Muggleborns intermarriage? You and Father are making history," she explained.

"Purebloods have been marrying Muggleborns for a hell of a lot longer than even Lucius has been alive," Hermione countered with a huff.

"Not with the Ancient bloodlines. And those who do try are often burned off family trees. Lucius is the patriarch. Which means that he decides who is disowned and who isn't," Luna informed her, as she gazed at them from her seat on the edge of the bed. "Draco is the only living heir, which means that the burden of carrying on the Malfoy line rests within the four of you."

"Lucius has a sister," Hermione admitted.

Astoria nodded, having heard about this from Draco. "A Squib. Someone who's been disowned and forgotten," Astoria said. "Father may be looking for her now, for whatever reason, but I assure you, she is not considered a part of the bloodline. Any children she has will never get anything from the estate because, as far as the line is concerned, she doesn't exist."

"That's cruel."

Astoria bowed her head sadly. "It is," she confessed, "but it is the way it is. From what Draco has told me, Abraxas Malfoy did more for his daughter than anyone else would have done under the circumstances. Unless I am mistaken, he gave her her inheritance. The education, the house, the bank account. I can almost guarantee that he gave her enough to last her several generations to come." She looked up at Hermione. "She is not wanting."

"He turned his back on her! They all did!" Hermione spat. "He didn't have to make her go."

Astoria raised her hands in askance. "What is there for her here? What would she have done? She can't do magic, so she can't get a magical job. The only thing that would have been for her would have been some sort of work that not even house elves would deign to do. Look at Argus Filch, the old caretaker at Hogwarts. That would have been her future, or something similar. What Abraxas did for her was to give her a chance. She can make something of herself out there in the Muggle world. Much more than she could do here."

"He didn't have to abandon her," Hermione argued. "Letters, visits, something to show that he loved her. Anything. But instead he just tossed her out like yesterday's rubbish."

Astoria shrugged. "If she had been born a Black, she would have been killed. I believe even the Nott family has been known to kill Squib children, though no one could prove it. What Abraxas did was show mercy to his only daughter."

Hermione wiped away angry tears as she thought over the injustice of it all. "It's not right," she said.

"It's not," Astoria admitted. "But it's the way of our world. You, Hermione, can change that, or at least try. You're already changing it. A Muggleborn is marrying a Pureblood patriarch from one of the oldest bloodlines in all of Britain, nay, the world. This is a much larger beast than you think. And it's grand and wonderful."

"I highly doubt my marriage will cause that big of an uproar," Hermione stated, blowing it off. At the same time, she could feel her worry begin to set in at the realization of what Astoria was saying. What would her marrying Lucius do to the Wizarding community? She had never thought of it. It had never even occurred to her. She looked at her friend sitting on the bed in that ridiculous yellow dress.

"I suppose we will see in tomorrow's paper, yes? Which reminds me, Hermione, you and Lucius won't mind if I have Theodore take a few pictures of you? For the Quibbler, that is," she said.

"Oh, that'll be fine," Hermione told her as she tried not to look surprised at Luna's garment.

Astoria gave the blonde girl a once over. She said nothing of Luna's dress, nor did she sneer. She simply sighed. "You won't mention what we've discussed here, will you?" she asked.

"I won't." Luna shook her head and gave an absent-minded smile. "Should we head to the dining hall? Or are we to wait?" she asked.

"I have to bring you to the drawing room," Astoria explained, "then I will go and get ready myself. Are you ready, Luna?"

The eclectic girl nodded. "I do hope there's pudding."

(II)(II)

"So, did you think over what was discussed earlier, Granger?" Theo asked as he cut into his chicken.

Hermione had a feeling she knew what he was asking. She glanced at Lucius warily. "A bit," she said as she let her eyes fall to her plate.

"So? Are we agreed on the Autumn Equinox? It'll be nice to know for the paper," Theo said as he took a bite of the chicken.

"The Equinox is so soon," she mumbled, not looking at anyone.

She saw a hand reach out to her and she glanced up to meet Lucius's gaze. Her cheeks reddened.

"You don't have to make a decision today, darling," he assured her gently and gave her a soft, soothing smile.

"But it would be nice to know. It would be improper to keep everyone waiting," Draco snapped irritably.

"Hush," Astoria hissed, glaring at her husband.

Draco shrugged. "What? The longer she makes him wait, the worse it's going to be," he reasoned. "Look, Granger," he leaned forward in his seat, "most engagements don't last more than a few months."

Hermione's eyes widened and she sat back. She looked at Lucius. "So, in a few months, if we don't marry, this whole thing will be called off?" she asked, her eyes swelling up in tears.

"What? No!" Lucius said, frowning. His eyes shot to his son. "Draco, curb your tongue before I remove it!" His gaze softened as he turned back to Hermione. "No, darling. What he means is that most people are married within months of becoming engaged. Any engagement that lasts longer ends up being questioned, and people assume the couple is not serious. That the whole engagement is some sort of joke, or political stunt."

"I've known engagements that have lasted years, though, and the couple were just as in love as the day they became engaged," Hermione stated. "Whether the engagement lasts four months or a year, it shouldn't matter, if the couple is truly in love."

"Is _that_ the reasoning you gave Weasel-brain?" Draco questioned. "Merlin, no wonder he left."

"Draco!" Lucius hissed, glaring at his son.

Astoria stood at that moment, causing the men in the dining room to stand as well. She tugged gently on Draco's arm. "Come, my love. I do think I would rather continue our meal in our rooms," she urged.

He frowned. "Why?"

She squared her jaw and looked haughtily at him. "Because you are embarrassing me and scaring Hermione," she admitted. "Not to mention angering your father and trying to start an argument in front of our guests. This is supposed to be the celebration of your father and Hermione's engagement. I will not have you ruin it with your childish behaviour and spoiled attitude."

His eyes narrowed and he jerked his arm away from his wife. "If Granger doesn't want to hear the truth, well, bully her. She's an adult, and she accepted Father's proposal. It's ridiculous to keep him waiting."

"Draco, what Hermione decides is between her and me until we decide to inform everyone," Lucius said. "Until then, it is none of your business."

"Isn't it rude to be arguing in front of guests?" Hermione wondered aloud, more than a little upset by Draco's words.

"It is," Astoria agreed. "Which is why Draco and I are leaving."

Draco took a deep breath. Turning on his heel, he stormed out of the room. Astoria sighed and looked at Lucius. "I apologize, Father, for my husband's ill manners. And to you, as well, Hermione."

Lucius inclined his head. "It's quite alright, my dear. Please inform Draco when he has corrected his manner, he is welcomed to rejoin us."

"Thank you, Father," Astoria said graciously as she gave a small curtsy and leaving.

Hermione stared at the door for a moment before looking at Lucius. "I…" she hesitated as she heard her own voice crack. She snapped her mouth shut and tried to steady her breathing.

"I would like to apologize to everyone tonight for Draco's appalling behaviour," Lucius said. He turned his attention to Hermione and took her hand. "And I especially wish to apologize to you, my darling. There was absolutely no reason for him to say the things he did this evening, especially in front of our guests."

"Draco's always been an arse," the Muggleborn mumbled as she bowed her head and stared at their joined hands. She glanced up at Lucius and gave him a weak smile before sighing and dropping their hands. "Unfortunately, I do think he may be right. Fact is, Lucius, I love you. And waiting a year to say our vows would be ridiculous, but the Autumn Equinox is much too soon. In fact, the next few holidays will be too soon, I believe, with far too many other things going on. So, I was thinking… How about a compromise?"

To be fair, she had been thinking about it. As much as the idea of getting married frightened her, particularly in light of the most recent realizations, she knew she would need to make a decision. She also knew that she simply could not see herself without Lucius by her side, as… odd of a thought as that was. She also wanted more time to study the customs and traditions of a Pureblood wedding, especially with emphasis on binding rituals. She wanted - no - _needed_ to know what she was getting herself into.

What did it mean to be a Malfoy wife? What was to be expected of her? She wanted time to research all of it. And with the books Draco had given her, she felt confident she could learn. Despite him being a right foul git. What was his problem anyway?

"What sort of compromise?" Lucius asked, drawing Hermione's attention back to the present.

She took a deep breath. "Ginny was right. I may have bitten off more than I can chew. That being said, so far I am learning much, and I expect I will be learning even more in the months to come. So, how about a Winter Solstice wedding? We could tie it in with a Christmas celebration of sorts. I mean, I'm not really one for large parties, but killing two birds with one stone sounds so much easier than separating them," she explained hurriedly.

"'Killing two birds'?" Lucius inquired in bewilderment. "Are we speaking of pheasants or…?"

Hermione shook her head as she chuckled. "Sorry. It's a Muggle expression, I suppose," she said. "No, I meant that we could do both at the same time and take care of both celebrations."

He lifted a brow. "We could," he said thoughtfully. It still wasn't ideal, but a Winter Solstice wedding could be quite lovely, and he wouldn't have to wait nearly as long as Imbolc.

"Oh, Hermione! A Winter Solstice wedding would be perfect!" Luna practically squealed with a bright smile. "The Winter Solstice is one of the most magical holidays."

"And it works given that you are a Gryffindor and he's a Slyherin," Theo added with a smirk as he took a sip of his wine.

Hermione's face fell slightly. "I hadn't thought of that," she mumbled. "We don't have to do red and green, do we?"

Lucius scoffed. "If we were schoolchildren, sure, but we aren't. No, my love. I do think we'll do gold and silver instead," he said as he sat back in his chair. "We usually have fantastic Solstice celebrations and the decorations are the most beautiful in the country. Our feast could include roasted pheasants and stuffing with cranberry sauce. We could even put a tree in the gazebo to stand in front of as we marry."

"That does sound lovely," Hermione mused. She glanced at her friend. "You won't mention Draco's little outburst in your article, will you?"

Luna gently shook her head. "Though I do think I should make him some trinkets to ward off all those Nargles," she admitted as she took a sip of her soup.

Lucius looked at the girl curiously as Theo placed his hand over hers. "I don't think that will be necessary, love," the raven-haired man said. "Draco's not really one for trinkets. Besides," he added, leaning into his wife and lowering his voice conspirituality, "the Nargles really bring out his eyes, don't you think?"

"What the hell is a 'Nargle'?" Lucius asked, frowning.

Hermione covered her face with her hand. "Don't ask," she mumbled.

"They usually infest mistletoe," Luna commented. She looked at Lucius. "I didn't see any mistletoe, unless you have it hidden somewhere?"

Lucius raised an eyebrow, but it was Hermione who answered briskly, "No, there is no mistletoe." Just as quickly as she answered, she sighed and added, tiredly, "I'm sorry, Luna. I'm still a bit frazzled by Draco."

Luna just nodded serenely. "It's ok. After all these years, I expect your lack of belief. Tell me, though, Hermione, did you believe the Deathly Hallows were real before it was discovered that Harry had found them? Or did you chalk it up to a myth?"

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but paused, thinking. "But the Deathly Hallows were real," she said, "though I don't believe Death himself created them."

Theo tilted his head. "Then what do you believe?" he asked.

"From our journey, Harry, Ron, and I had discovered that the Peverell brothers had been the original possessors of the Hallows," she explained, sitting up. "They were powerful wizards, so it stands to reason that they had created the Hallows."

"No, it doesn't," Theo argued. "Someone else, like Death, could have easily created them."

"And why would he just give them away?" Hermione asked, folding her arms.

"You did read the story, correct?" Theo countered, raising an eyebrow. "They were meant as a trap. A sort of 'punishment', if you will."

Hermione shook her head and sighed. "Maybe, but wouldn't it make more sense that three powerful wizards decided to create magical objects with the sole purpose of being the most powerful? A wand that can do anything, a stone that can bring back the dead, and an impenetrable invisibility cloak that won't fade with time?"

"Three powerful wizards who happen to be brothers," Theo pointed out.

Hermione shrugged. "It's possible," she said. "And imagine the fame if all three brothers became the most powerful. To not only cheat death, but to create items to overcome death."

"How many families do you know have three powerful wizards who happen to be brothers?" Theo asked.

Hermione smirked. "Well, Lucius and I aren't married yet," she commented.

"Think you're going to have three powerful sons?" Theo asked, causing Lucius to stare at Hermione in surprise.

The Muggleborn scoffed. "No," she said, and Lucius breathed an internal sigh of relief. "But Lucius and I have spoken about having a child or two. And since he already has one rather powerful son…"

Theo leaned back. "So you admit that Draco is powerful, then?" he questioned, grinning in amusement.

"Of course he is," she told him. "I mean, he was second only to me in school until the war got in the way. I never doubted his intelligence nor skill with a wand."

"So, Winter Solstice?" Luna asked, glancing at Lucius.

The aristocratic wizard gave a single nod and glanced at his bride-to-be. "I believe it will give you and Astoria ample time to prepare, yes?"

Hermione nodded a bit awkwardly. She didn't really care for the conversation to end, but she knew it was getting late. It was actually smart of Luna to change the subject as Hermione knew she could certainly continue without any thought.

"I would like to have some Muggle things in the ceremony, if possible?" she requested.

Lucius gave her a soft smile. "I'm sure we can integrate some things, though we would have to discuss what exactly you desire, darling. I am unfamiliar with Muggle customs."

"We can do that," Hermione agreed.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Oodles of thanks again to my wonderful betas. Elle, Nina, you two are the best!

And thank you to all of my readers and reviewers! You are what keeps me going! I can't believe this story has gotten this far.

Draco can be such a prat. I wonder what's got his wand all up in a knot.


	15. Chapter 14

Astoria knocked on the door to Lucius's office. "Father? I have the estimates you've asked for, may I enter?" she asked. When she heard him respond in the affirmative, she entered the office to find him sitting behind his desk, writing.

He did not glance up as she walked to his desk and placed a file upon it. "Hermione is supposed to be here at six this evening," she said. "Shall I inform the elves to have supper ready?"

He placed his quill on its stand and sat back, looking up at his daughter-in-law. "No," he replied. "I made reservations at Slagueten's."

She grinned. "Oh, Father, you're going to spoil her. However did you get reservations to such a place?" she asked.

He shrugged. "How do you get reservations anywhere? Money," he responded. He reached across his desk and, with a raised eyebrow, picked up the file she had placed upon it. "Is this everything?"

Astoria sighed. "As I said, it's simply an estimate, but… I think so. Hermione told me that she's a bit wary of turning the wedding into some sort of huge spectacle, but you know as well as I do that, if it isn't, the papers will have a field day. Especially in light of what's happening," she explained.

He nodded. "Yes. There has been much talk of 'the Pureblood patriarch marrying a Muggleborn'," he commented.

"There will be even more when Mrs. Nott's article is circulated," she said.

"She's supposed to send me a copy of it today," Lucius agreed as he stood and walked to his wetbar.

A tapping alerted the two magic users to a window where a large barn owl was hovering with a magazine clutched within its talons. "Speaking of," Astoria commented with a smile as she opened the window to allow the bird to fly in.

The bird deposited the paper onto the desk and took its leave, flying back out of the window. Astoria chuckled. "Well, no need to waste any time, I suppose," she said as she glanced down at the paper. "Oh! Look at how lovely the two of you are!"

Lucius replaced the stopper upon the decanter of brandy and picked up his glass. Returning to his desk, he glanced at the magazine. "That shouldn't come as a surprise, my dear," he said as he sat down behind the desk. "Both Hermione and myself are very photogenic individuals."

"You made the front page," she teased. "And this time, it's not for a glorious contribution to one of your many charities."

"The patriarch of one of the oldest Pureblood families in all of Britain is marrying a Muggleborn," he reiterated. He scoffed. "Of course we made the front page. I will need your help in making sure Hermione doesn't do anything rash - you know the tabloids will be itching for a story."

She nodded. "I will do my best, Father," she stated. "Shall I see you at tea time?"

He glanced at the clock on the mantel. "If I can get through these figures in time," he told her.

"I will hold you to that," she said before she turned and left the room.

He watched her leave. Raising his wand, he shut and locked the door. He stared down at the figures before him. Taking a deep breath, he drained his glass. Reaching for the magazine, he studied the front picture for a moment. He went to take another sip of his drink and, realizing it was empty, he stood and walked to the wetbar to refill it.

The Notts had stayed for another hour or so the night prior, snapping photos and speaking to him and Hermione more about their relationship. After much deliberation, and a slip-up from Hermione, they decided to include the fact that this wedding would include a binding ritual.

He held the magazine in one hand and his tumbler in the other as he moved to sit in his chair by the fire. He set his brandy down after taking another sip of his drink and opened the magazine. It didn't take him long to find the article.

Winter Solstice.

He stared at the flames in annoyance. On the plus side, it wasn't the Imbolic, but it was still nearly six months away.

He sighed. How did a simple desire to fuck the cunt turn into marriage and binding spells anyway? She had been so beautiful, so… innocent. He didn't really care about "making a statement" or even encouraging younger generations to be more open as to their selection of partners. He just wanted to fuck someone, it had been so long. Sure, he could admit to himself that he wasn't opposed to marrying her. At least he wouldn't have to worry about looking for someone to have sex with. And, with her being a virgin, he could teach her things. She did love to learn, after all.

His eyes flashed lustfully as he pictured her tied to his bed and the cracking sound of a cat o'nine tails ringing in the air. He had never really been able to do those things with Narcissa, often having to rely on the local brothels or his clubs to find such entertainment. Hermione, however, was Muggleborn and lacked the natural restrictions that came with Purebloodedness, or so he thought. Surely she would be more inclined to accept a little play?

He didn't know when he unzipped his trousers or began to rub his cock. The magazine lay forgotten on his footrest as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, giving way to luscious fantasies. He wondered how open Hermione would be to try out some of his more lascivious ideals. She was a Gryffindor, after all, and didn't they tend to be rather daring?

It had been such a long time since he had been with a girl so young and… vibrant. He honestly did not know how he was going to last until the Solstice.

He pictured her hot and writhing naked body spread out upon his sheets. Her sweet, succulent, perky nipples and her dewy cunt simply melted in the palm of his hand. And to feel her lips wrap deliciously around his hard cock…

He grabbed his handkerchief and came into it. It felt so good, though it was really nowhere near as satisfying as he wanted it to be. Grimacing, he chucked the soggy piece of cloth into the fireplace and tucked himself back into his trousers.

There had to be a way to sample her treasures without ruining her integrity.

He looked up as he heard his son knock on his door. Rolling his eyes, Lucius sat up and bid the boy to enter.

"It's locked," Draco shouted from the other side.

Lucius raised an eyebrow, but did not answer. He simply waited for his son to unlock the door and enter the room. He picked up the article again and was busy sipping his brandy and reading it as Draco finally entered the room.

"Why did you lock the door?" the boy demanded as he went to the wetbar and poured himself a drink.

Lucius didn't bother to look at his son, though he could hear the boy fix his drink and move to sit in the chair opposite him. "Most people lock doors for a bit of privacy," he commented, turning the page.

"The only time you or Mother ever locked your doors was when… Oh," Draco said, his face contorting in disgust. "You do realize that is what bedrooms are for, right?"

Lucius glanced at his son nonchalant. "It's my home," he said in answer. "I am allowed to do whatever I damn well please, wherever I damn well please."

Draco grunted as he sat back in his chair. "So, what do you think of the article?" he asked.

Lucius read aloud: "'When asked whether they plan on having any children, Miss Granger replied, "We don't know what the future holds for us, however, Lucius and I have been discussing the possibility of a child or two.'"

Draco grunted. "How sweet," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Granger's been pouring over those books and she's taken several of them home with her, did you know?"

Lucius continued reading the article as he answered, "Of course. Nothing leaves this Manor without my knowledge." He glanced up at his son. "You know this."

"She makes you sound like some sort of hero," the young wizard said, gazing at the magazine. In a high-pitched falsetto, he quoted, "'After years of being under the boots of a tyrant, Lucius Malfoy has finally found some relief in the famous war-heroine, Hermione Granger. Seeing him sitting beside her looking much happier than anyone has ever seen him, Lucius spoke of the work Hermione has done thus far and how he hopes for her to continue…'" He dropped the falsetto to twist his face in a sneer and added, "It's like my mother and the years you've been with her are all some sort of disease you had."

"Your mother and I were never together by choice," Lucius said as he looked up at his son. "As you know, it was an arranged marriage. We weren't even able to bind."

"Mother is going to flip when she reads that you and Granger are binding," Draco predicted. "You do know you can't reverse a binding, right?"

"I am aware," the older man stated tiredly. "Once Hermione and I are wed, that will be the end of me searching for a partner, Draco. And, honestly, it will be a relief. I grow weary of living alone all the time."

"You don't live alone. Astoria and I - ."

"Are not always here," Lucius interrupted, staring at his son. "Nor do I wish you to be. You have your own life to live, son, and I want you to live it without worrying over me. Besides," he added, "I neither want to nor can enjoy Astoria's feminine charms, so I might as well have my own witch."

Lucius watched his son for a moment as the young man struggled with himself. He knew the couple had a home of their own in Surrey, though they often spent time at the Manor. It wasn't that he wanted them to leave. No, he adored spending time with his son and getting to know his daughter-in-law. But they were newlyweds. They deserved to live on their own, to be young.

"What about this elusive aunt? Are you really going to try to find her?" Draco asked, sipping at his drink.

Lucius sighed. "I'm hoping Hermione will forget about her, though I doubt she will," he replied, cracking a half-smile. He shrugged, "It might be beneficial to just find Helen and be done with it. Honestly, there aren't many Malfoys, if any, in the Muggle world, so finding her shouldn't be that difficult."

"Think she's mad at you for abandoning her?" Draco asked, his curiosity piqued.

Lucius scoffed. "I didn't abandon her. Our father did. I see no reason why she should hold a grudge against me for it," he reasoned.

"If you and Granger have children, they will be the start of a new branch within the family tree," Draco commented. "Half-bloods at that."

"Half-bloods who will end up marrying Purebloods," Lucius pointed out.

The young wizard shook his head. "Granger will never agree to any sort of forced or arranged marriage for her children. She will want them to be given the option to choose."

"And they will," Lucius reasoned. "Among the variety of Purebloods."

"Do you think Purebloods will want to marry their daughters to a Malfoy who is Half-blood?" Draco questioned sincerely.

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Name me one Pureblood who wouldn't want to be married into the Malfoy line," he countered. "Half-blood though your future brothers will be, they will still be desired. Especially as they will receive quite the inheritance upon my death."

Draco frowned and Lucius knew he had touched a sore spot. However, the man did not care. "And they will inherit a portion of the money," he told his son. "You may be the oldest, but you will not deny them their fair share."

"Do you honestly think I care about the money?" he asked. "You just mentioned your death so casually as though you expect it to occur some time soon!"

Lucius quirked a brow. "Of course you care about the money," he pointed out with a smirk. "And, though my death may not come soon, it will come. You will have to reconcile yourself with that idea."

"But, Father," Draco argued.

Lucius sighed. "No one can predict how long they will live, son. Eventually, I will pass. With luck I will pass long before any of you," he replied.

"If Granger heard you say that she would hex you," Draco spat.

The older man chuckled. "Of that, I have little doubt." Sighing, his laughter faded as he glanced at his son seriously. "I want you and Astoria to make yourselves scarce this evening."

Draco blinked, taken aback by his father's request. He eyed him distrustfully. "And why is that?" he questioned.

Lucius frowned. "Do I need a reason?" he countered.

"You're going to supper with Granger in a couple of hours, alone, and you want Astoria and I to be 'scarce'. I don't know, Father. Sounds a bit suspect to me."

"Hermione and I are betrothed," Lucius responded. "We are also two grown adults - ."

Draco shrugged as he leaned back in his chair. "Fine. I don't care," he retorted. "You're the one who wants to bind with the bint. If she's not whole when the ceremony takes place, you know as well as I that the binding won't stick."

"There are things we can do that won't compromise the situation," Lucius commented.

"You sound like a randy Hogwarts student!" Draco snarled as he stood up and went to the wetbar.

"We've spent hardly a moment alone together since we've become engaged," Lucius growled. "I know the consequences should things go too far. If I want to spend some time alone with my future wife, it is my right, and I will do so."

"I don't know why you're angry with me," Draco stated, though Lucius hadn't risen his voice. "I couldn't care less. I don't even know why you let it go this far."

Neither did Lucius, if he were honest with himself. All he had wanted was a shag. What he had found was the potential of having a companion who could be with him for the rest of his life. Lucius stared at the flames. "She's intelligent, witty, clever, and beautiful. She stirs something within me that I haven't felt since…" he paused as he thought about it. "Ever," he concluded.

"And my mother meant nothing, is that it?" Draco hissed angrily.

Lucius's eyes drifted to his only son, his prodigy, his heir. "I loved your mother once," he admitted. "Or at least, I think I did. Truth be told, Draco, your mother and I were an arranged marriage. Though we had tried to make it work, I do believe many things got in the way."

"We were happy," the young man stubbornly pointed out.

Lucius nodded. "We were," he agreed. "For a time, we were, but I think your mother and I both knew it wasn't going to last. Had the Dark Lord not returned, maybe things would be different. Too many things happened, to her, to you, to me, to us. It just wasn't the same."

"You didn't even try to fix things between you two," Draco accused, scowling bitterly. "Like a coward, you just ran, took the easy way out."

Lucius frowned. "I wasn't the one who left, son."

"Liar! You filed for the divorce. You told Mother to sign the papers. Don't think I didn't know," he sneered.

"I did," the older wizard admitted. "The moment I saw her with that Spaniard, I knew it was over between us."

"You pushed her into his arms."

"You are young, my boy," Lucius said as he leaned back in his chair to rub his forehead. He could feel the start of a headache forming. "You will learn with time that a person cannot truly push another into doing something they don't want to do."

"You followed the Dark Lord-"

"Because I wanted to."

"You followed him again when he returned, too."

"Because I still believed in the cause in the beginning," Lucius confessed as he let his eyes fall to the flames again. "I was a fool," he whispered. "We all were, and I didn't realize it until it was almost too late."

Draco glowered, slouching in his chair. "Is this another pity party?" he groused.

Lucius's eyes snapped to his son and he scowled. "Sit up, Draco! I didn't raise you to be some sort of pauper," he ordered in annoyance.

Draco slowly righted himself, but mused, "I don't know why I should bother. With you marrying a Muggleborn and searching for your long lost Squib sister, we'll be snubbed. All of us. And don't think for one moment that people will accept me and not you. This marriage will affect us all."

Lucius scoffed. "We're already snubbed from certain circles," he muttered. Louder, he said, "We will never been truly snubbed, however. Rest assured, Draco, our wealth has secured our standing in society for centuries to come. If anything, we are trend setters. I suspect that after my marriage to the lovely Miss Hermione Granger, many more will pursue the same course. Bloodlines will need to be tainted, if only a little, if we have any chance of survival in the generations to come."

"Spoken like a true blood traitor," came a feminine voice from the door.

Both men sat bolt up at the sound and turned to see Narcissa standing in the archway. Lucius sneered. How had he not felt her entry? "What do you want, Narcissa?" the man demanded. "This is not your home anymore, so you have no right to be here."

"I was coming here to visit my beloved, _Pureblooded_ daughter-in-law, when I heard the two of you speaking. Tell me, Lucius, do you truly intend to bind with the little harlot?" she asked casually.

Lucius stood and went to his wetbar for a refill. Gods, he hated dealing with his ex-wife. "Astoria is not here," he pointed out. "If you wish to speak with her, perhaps you should try the aviary. And you will refrain from calling my betrothed such names in my presence."

"You still haven't answered my question, Lucius," Narcissa responded. "Are you really going to bind with her?"

He poured himself another finger of brandy and turned to face her. "I don't see how that is any of your business giving the circumstances."

She lifted her head haughtily. "Normally I would agree with you, but as you decided to broadcast your coming wedding to the world, I seek confirmation from you."

Lucius returned to his chair and lifted the Quibbler. "Why, it's all here in black and white, my dear," he drawled. "I hardly need to spell it out for you, unless the Spaniard has managed to addle your brain."

"If anyone's brain has been addled it's yours!" she hissed. "Have you completely lost your senses? You go through with this marriage, this binding, and you will lose everything you and your forefathers have worked so hard to obtain! You'll be snubbed from all society. Forever. You'll never be able to show your face again."

"Narcissa, you bore me," the man said idly. "If you have nothing productive to… oh, wait. You don't. Which is why you are my ex-wife." He raised an eyebrow as he stared at her cruelly. "If you recall, I did attempt to bind myself to you a little over two decades ago. Isn't it a shame it did not stick?"

Narcissa huffed. "And you know why!" she snapped.

He just gave a nonchalant shrug and took a sip of his brandy. "We weren't compatible, even then," he explained. "The flame sizzled out far too quickly, I believe, though I often wonder if it were an actual flame or if your ghastly pallor was simply too… glacial for me to realize I was actually slowly being frozen by your mere presence."

Lucius had often wondered how Narcissa would look if she actually produced even a flicker of anger on her face. Would the ice caps on the tips of her nose and chin melt? As she huffed, turned on her heel, and stormed out, he lamented the lack of an answer. However, he was glad for her exit, though he half expected a trail of ice to follow her.

"Was it really necessary to insult my mother?" Draco questioned, drawing Lucius's attention back to him.

"Only because I am now able," the older man stated, taking another sip of his brandy.

He saw the exasperation on Draco's face and rolled his eyes. "She was a frigid cow who had to hire a wet nurse just to ensure you had proper nutrition as a babe. While I do not doubt her love for you, any sort of affection between her and I withered long ago. I do, however, apologize that you had to bear witness to this confrontation. One would think she had better breeding than to air our problems before our only child."

"And how much breeding do you think Granger has?" the boy wondered aloud.

Lucius cocked a brow. "I suppose I will learn tonight," he surmised as he let his eyes linger upon the hearth's fire. He glanced at his son and added, "Provided neither you nor Astoria are here."

Draco snarled. "We won't be," he assured his father. "But don't whinge to me if you get carried away and can't bind with her."

The older wizard smirked as he finished his drink. Oh, they will bind, he knew, for certain. But there was nothing wrong with having a bit of fun beforehand, of… sampling the goods… He felt himself harden again at the mere thought. "You might want to go find your mother, son. We can't have her wandering about the manor after all."

(II)(II)

Hermione's bedroom was small, much like the rest of her flat. While it had at least two bookcases filled with books, there was just enough room for a small wardrobe and dresser and her full-sized bed. In the corner of her room stood a full-length mirror that currently had a jumper draped upon the top of it.

Hermione sat upon her bed and was surrounded by books from the Manor. Her face was currently buried in a book as she idly sipped at a glass of water.

Hermione closed the book as she finished it and sighed. In some cases, the Wizarding World was very advanced. Women were able to hold jobs with equal pay to the men. In fact, women were treated as equals to the point that a woman could have, literally, any job within the Wizarding world a man had, provided she had the right training and skill.

However, a woman's place in society was very much that of the care-giver. She was the one who bore the children, after all, and as such, she was expected to put her life on hold the moment she became pregnant. Hermione saw this, too, when she watched Ginny and Harry. It made her seriously question whether she truly wanted children of her own.

Shaking her head, she quickly dismissed that notion. Of course she wanted children. With Lucius, too, if possible.

Pureblood society was even stricter than she had envisioned, though. While Lucius seemed fine with Hermione's position within the Ministry, she wondered if he was simply humoring her, and how long such humor would last. Matrons of traditional Pureblood families did not hold traditional employment outside the home. It wasn't that they couldn't. They just simply… didn't.

But there were other responsibilities. As Lucius's wife, Hermione would be in charge of the household. She would have to organize banquets, parties, galas, all of it. She would need to maintain a consistent air of propriety and elegance that no regular woman would even dream of. Furthermore, as the wife of the patriarch, she would have to be very careful with how she presented herself to society as a whole. No more tomfoolery.

She could do it, she knew she could. Until she had met Harry and Ron, Hermione had been all about being prim and proper, so, at least in the Muggle world, she knew how to do it. From what she had read in the books Draco and Astoria had insisted upon her reading, everything was virtually the same. She just had to remember which fork to use.

She sighed. Was she really prepared to take on this society? To be Lucius's wife? Mrs. Malfoy.

It wasn't just a name. It was so much more. She would have to be on her best behavior at all times. Astoria had been right. About all of it. Gone were Hermione's days of wearing jeans and tank tops. If Hermione chose Lucius, she would be choosing this lifestyle.

Setting her glass down upon the small nightstand beside her bed, Hermione stood and walked to the mirror. Tugging the jumper off of it, she gazed at herself in the mirror. Was she truly ready? Did she really want this?

Images of Lucius and her floated through her mind. They were good together and he was so handsome. He was so intelligent, too, she thought, as she remembered getting lost in conversations and debates with him. He complimented her and gave her a different perspective of her ideals and dreams. And it was obvious that he was more than interested in her desires. He would help her, she knew. Together, they would get legislation passed that would benefit all, rather than a few.

He had sent her an owl earlier, inviting her to supper. She had accepted without thought. She straightened up her stance, pushing back her shoulders and raising her head. "I can do this," she told herself. What was more… she wanted to do this. She wanted him.

Turning on her heel, she went to her wardrobe. If she was going to do this, it was best she start now. Out with the old, in with the new as the saying went.

She opened the wardrobe as a smile crept up her face.

(III)(III)

Ginny Flooed in at a quarter after seven. She analyzed Hermione's dress and helped her with her hair. "So, you know the rules?" she asked. "No touching, no kissing. You have dinner, maybe walk along the Thames or something, and then you come home."

"Ginny, I'm not a child," Hermione growled.

"I know, I know," the redhead said as she looked at her friend. "I just worry, is all. I still can't believe you are going on a date alone with him. I mean, you're getting married soon, and binding ceremonies require - ."

"I know what a binding ceremony requires," the brunette said in annoyance. "We've been through this. Lucius is the perfect gentleman and this is not the first time he and I have been alone together."

"I just don't want your wedding to be sabotaged. Be careful with how much alcohol you drink. Bad decisions can occur in the heat of a drunken moment."

"Well, it's a good thing I don't intend on drinking too much," Hermione pointed out as a knock came to her door.

Hermione smiled brightly as she looked at the door. "He's here!" she stated as she made her way to the door. She brushed a hand over her dress, ridding herself of imaginary crinkles. Before she could turn the handle, Ginny put her hand over hers and met her eyes.

"Remember," the younger witch said. "Too many people make the mistake of letting their guards down and end up becoming unwed mothers."

Hermione snorted. "You're breathing too much into this. It's just dinner," she said, pushing Ginny out of the way and opening the door.

Ginny stared dubiously as Hermione answered the door and greeted a very suave Lucius. He kissed the back of her hand as he bowed low. As he rose, he didn't take his eyes off of his fiancee and said, "Begging your pardon, Mrs. Potter."

He cupped Hermione's jaw and gave her a tender kiss. "You'll have her back by 10, right?" Ginny questioned as Lucius rubbed his cheek affectionately against Hermione's.

He shot the redhead a look. Pulling back, he looked down at his bride-to-be and inquired, "Is there somewhere you have to be tomorrow morning?"

Hermione shrugged. "Work?" she hazard a response. His aftershave had been so intoxicating that she mourned the loss of his cheek against hers. Perhaps the restaurant would have some soft music that they could dance to…

He gave the maternal witch a soft grin. "She will awaken well rested and in tact. Have no fear."

Ginny frowned and folded her arms across her chest. "I'm trusting you, Mr. Malfoy, even though every instinct tells me not to. I don't have to tell you that she is a lady and if you cross that line, you won't be able to bind with her."

Lucius tilted his chin up haughtily. "I am well aware of our current situation and I do believe I am old enough to not be lectured by you."

"Again, it'll be fine, Gin," Hermione assured her.

The younger witch sighed. "I still think you should have a chaperone," she weakly disagreed.

Hermione shrugged. She couldn't remember why she had agreed to a private night out with Lucius, but she was certain he was trustworthy enough not to do anything untoward. They were entering into a binding marriage. From what Hermione had read, such a marriage hinged highly upon the woman's virginal blood, or something to that effect. She still thought the whole thing was rather backwards, but it was important to Lucius, and apparently many Purebloods. And she fully believed that he took such things rather seriously.

"I promise I'll be fine," Hermione repeated. "This isn't the first time we've been alone on a date."

Lucius bent his head and whispered into her ear, "We're going to be late. We should go."

Hermione nodded. "I'll Floo you in the morning, Gin. I promise."

(IV)(IV)

Lucius stepped up behind Hermione and touched her shoulders. Reaching around her, he unclasped her cloak. "Have you enjoyed yourself, darling?" he asked as he sent both her cloak and his to hang in the cloak room.

She smiled at him. "I have," she admitted. "Though, do you really think it wise for me to come here after we've eaten?"

He shrugged as he offered her his arm and led her to his study. "There isn't anything wrong with us spending time together. We'll be married soon enough."

Though it was true, he was also well aware that bringing her to his home, alone, could ruin a lot of things. But she was so enticing he wanted more.

The restaurant had been the perfect choice for the evening, he remembered. They had dined on oven roasted sea bass with tomatoes, olives, and fennel, along with fresh oysters. They drank several glasses Pinot Noir - he kept refilling her glass - and he convinced her to come to his home.

He led her to the chaise in his study before going to his wet bar. Opening the small ice box, he took out a bottle of Chablis Grand Cru Valmur and showed it to her. "There's not much left in this. Shall we finish it?" he suggested, taking two wine glasses out and filling them both.

Handing her one of the glasses, he set the other glass and the bottle upon a table near the chaise. "This hasn't always been here," Hermione commented as she reclined on the chaise.

He sat beside her and took a sip of his drink. "No," he replied truthfully. "I thought it would be best to have this here on days when we were searching through paperwork."

She smirked as she downed her own glass of wine in one go. "Trying to lure me into salacious things, Lucius? Naughty, naughty."

He grinned in return and leaned forward. Whispering in her ear, he challenged, "And what do you intend to do about it, Miss Granger?"

In response, she looked up into his grey eyes and kissed him. He deepened the kiss, setting his glass down before taking hers and doing the same. He pressed into her, gently guiding her to lay upon the chaise as he worked his way above her. Touching the side of her hip, he clutched a handful of her dress and began pulling it up.

Her arms rested about his neck as her hands buried themselves in his hair. She moaned against his mouth as he cupped her clothed breast with his other hand as the former continued to pull the dress up. Once the dress was high enough, he slipped his hand underneath it and teased the soft, smooth flesh there. He nearly groaned at the feeling of it. So tender, so ripe.

His fingers played with the waistband of her knickers, slipping beneath them to touch the flesh there as well. "How wet are you, darling?" he breathed against her skin as he trailed kisses down her cheek to her neck.

She arched her back against him, her breasts pressing needingly against his chest. "Lucius," came her soft cry of want.

He was careful not to smile too widely. Suddenly breaking the kiss, he sat up. "We need to remove these clothes," he told her. "I want to see all of you."

Lost as she was in their heedy kiss, she allowed him to unzip her dress and pull it off of her. He licked his lips at the sight of her bra clad breasts and matching lace knickers. "Now who's the naughty one?" he questioned, taking note of the black lace she wore.

He bent down and kissed her again. He began licking and touching every part of her that he could, sucking gently at the spot right below her ear before moving tantalizing kisses down her neck to the tops of her breasts. Reaching behind her, he found the clasps to the bra and released the orbs, pulling the bra away and depositing it onto the floor.

"Beautiful," he praised as he gazed at the orbs with their pert nipples. One orb could fit perfectly into his hand and he relished the feel of it.

Bending his head down, he began sucking on one nipple as he teased the other with his thumb and forefinger. He licked the tip of the nipple, drawing it out and sucking it to make it stand tall and proud. As he switched to the other nipple, he moved his hand to the waistband of her knickers once more. He slipped his hand underneath and cupped her pussy, slipping his fingers between the folds and teasing her clit.

He trailed his kisses downward even further, tasting her soft, but slim belly, tickling it with his chin. Pulling his hand away from her cunny, he hooked both thumbs around the sides of her knickers and began pulling them down.

"Wait!" she protested breathlessly. "We can't."

He looked up at her, pushing back his annoyance. Surely she was drunk enough, wasn't she? Her eyes were certainly darkened by lust. Perhaps she hadn't had enough to drink yet.

"It's ok, darling," he assured her. "We're not going to have sex."

"I know we can't. Lucius, we're getting married. You want us to be bound to one another, and honestly, I've been reading on it and I decided, I want to be bound to you as well. But the binding won't take if we do this," she said, her eyes growing sorrowful and anxious.

"You don't know how happy that makes me feel," he said. "To know that you want to bind with me and that you are reading the books. But, darling, I assure you, we won't do anything that could harm the binding. I simply want to taste you, is all. I've been craving your sweet honey for so long…"

"You won't ruin the binding?"

"On my honour as a gentleman," he promised.

She giggled and wrapped her legs around his waist, tugging him to her. "A naughty gentleman," she teased.

He smirked as he hooked his thumbs in her knickers again. "A very naughty gentleman who wants to sample your sweet fruit, my little morsel," he agreed. "Won't you let me? I promise it will be good."

She giggled some more and lifted her hips some. "Such a naughty gentleman," she whispered.

With that, he easily slipped off the knickers and stowed them away in his pocket. She didn't even notice. He kissed her lips again before positioning himself so that he could continue his kisses at her navel and downward. His fingers slid along the folds of her pussy, his thumb teasing her clit again. She gasped and writhed under his touch and he smirked as he licked and kissed her inner thigh. "So wet for me," he whispered, his hot breath tickling her thigh.

She tasted divine as he licked her thigh clean and moved to the other thigh. "Oh, Lucius," she moaned as her hips bucked at his touch.

He grinned. "That's right, my little kitty, purr my name as I pleasure you," he murmured. Grasping her thighs and holding them open, he licked, first one lip, then the other, gathering a healthy sample of her juice.

Her hands found his hair and pulled on it. He glanced up at her a smirked. "Enjoying yourself?" he asked as he gently pried her hands from his hair so he could continue licking her cunt.

But her hands kept going straight for his hair every time he sucked at her clit. As endearing as it was, the pulling of his hair kept him from enjoying his dessert properly. He lifted his head as he looked up at her, his fingers still playing with her clit. "Shall we take this into the bedroom, my pet?" he asked with a smirk.

"I… I…" she stammered, shutting her eyes and arching her back to his touch.

"What's wrong?" he questioned, feigning ignorance as he kept rubbing her.

"L-Lu-Lucius, I can't…" she whimpered. "Our binding…"

He cupped her cheek in his hand and tilted her head to him, meeting her eyes. "Hermione, I want you to trust me," he cooed, pushing the hair out of her face and running his thumb along her bottom lip. "We're not going to do anything to jeopardize our binding. Do you trust me?"

As he spoke to her, his other hand continued to rub her clit, enticing her. She gasped and moaned as her eyes fluttered. "Yes," she breathed, "I do."

Smiling softly, he kissed her gently and… she started giggling. Confused, Lucius broke the kiss and looked at her.

Her giggling increased as she touched her lips. "5 o'clock shadow," she explained, smiling goofily. "I've never felt one before. It tickles."

He raised an eyebrow as he mentally counted the number of drinks she had had. Was she really this light weight? He would have to keep that in mind. He relaxed into a soft smirk as he pressed his thumb against her sopping pussy. "I do think it's time to get you to bed," he reasoned.

Releasing her cunt, he slipped an arm under her knees as he slipped the other behind her back. "Put your arms around my neck," he instructed.

"I'm not a bride yet," she commented in a singsong voice as he lifted her into his arms.

She kicked her feet into the air playfully. "Here comes the bride, all dressed in white!" she sang as he walked up the stairwell to the bedroom.

He mentally grimaced. She was _not_ the best singer when she was drunk. It made him wonder if she could sing at all. Apparently that one line was all she knew of that song, though he had never heard of it. She kept repeating it, though, and it grated a bit on his nerves.

"You shall dress in white, my love," he cooed. "From the top of your head to your toes."

"And come the night, I'll be dressed in red," she continued, making up her own line for the song.

His eyes glinted as he opened his bedroom door and walked across the threshold. His cock ached at the thought. In an attempt to shut her up, he kissed her and, as he lay her on the bed, he followed her.

His touches became more frantic then, for he wanted nothing more than to have her screaming his name as she saw stars. He flicked one of her nipples with the tip of his tongue as he tweaked the other between his fingers. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and dug her nails into the smooth skin.

He was smart enough to keep his trousers on, though his cock was aching to be released. He let her scour his back and shoulders as he sucked on her nipples and began trailing kisses down her body. His fingers teased her labia and clit as his mouth moved further down.

He lapped at her juices like a man in the desert thirsting for water. How he loved the taste of her! He couldn't get enough.

She pulled hard at his hair and he stopped. Looking up at her, she had a mournful expression. "Please don't stop," she whispered.

Smiling, he reached up and untangled her hands from his hair. "Would you like to play a game, darling?" he asked.

She looked at him with wide eyes. "What kind of game?"

He groaned as he pushed himself off of her. She cried as he moved away from her. "Trust me," he told her. "I'm not going anywhere."

He padded across the room to his dresser drawers. Keeping an eye on the girl, he opened the bottom drawer and pulled out some rope. He could see her watching him, first with curiosity then wariness.

He sighed as he shut the drawer and walked back towards her, unraveling the rope. "It's called, Make Her Cum," he told her, looking into her eyes.

He climbed back onto the bed until he was able to put one knee on either side of her. She stared at the black rope. "Wh-what are you going to do?" she questioned.

He caressed her cheek. "It'll be ok, love. Remember, I won't do anything to harm you," he assured her. "I'm simply going to tie this rope to your wrists and secure them to a hook at the headboard. Once I've done that, I'm going to make you cum several times."

"We can't have sex," she reminded him.

As if he needed to be reminded. Patiently, he nodded. "Remember when I told you there were other ways to derive pleasure without having sex?" he asked. At her nod, he continued, "Well, tonight I intend to show you those ways."

"By tying my hands?" she questioned.

A devilish smirk grew upon his face. "For starters."

He didn't tell her that he had planned for this evening to go this way, or that he had kept a list of toys in his dresser for such a moment. When she asked if there were other toys and why he had a rope, he simply mentioned that he couldn't remember why he had put the rope in his drawer and promised her it would heighten the game.

He refrained from actually fucking her, but she did let him tie her arms above her head and secure them to the headboard. She just simply refused to keep her hands to herself and he desperately needed to maintain control, lest he end the binding ritual right then and there. He still didn't know how he managed, but he dared not even test her tightness for fear that it would ruin the binding. He contented himself with teasing her clit until she came in a begging mess. Then he licked her clean.

He lost count of how many times he had made her cum. All he knew was that what seemed like hours later, he was exhausted. His jaw ached, but he didn't care. After he untied her so she could rest, she mentioned his hardened cock and started to unbutton his trousers. He cautioned her, worried that he might not be able to hold back if she began teasing him. It had been a long time since he had had sex, after all.

The feel of her lips upon his cock nearly did it for him, though. He hadn't asked it of her. She was a minx. Grinning at him, she licked the head of his cock as she stroked the length of it. He didn't expect any of it, especially when she took him into her mouth and sucked.

For someone who had never even seen a dick in real life, she certainly knew how to suck one. She loved his cock and said so several times. She loved the girth, the length, and the taste. Even more, she swallowed his seed. Not even Narcissa had done that, but then, Narcissa had refused to give him fellatio period.

When she finished, she explained to him how she had "read about it in a book". Apparently when she was younger, she had even practiced the technique on a cucumber when she was alone in her bedroom. God, this woman was made for him and he couldn't wait to wed her.

Eyes fluttering open, Lucius blinked, allowing his eyes to become focused. Beside him, covered effectively by the sheets and heavy duvet, Hermione slept curled up against him. He frowned a bit, trying to remember the night before.

He felt himself harden at the memory. He wanted her so badly that he debated taking her right here, right now. Glancing down at her, he sighed. She looked so innocent, so beautiful, sleeping peacefully in his arms. Licking his lips, he brushed a stray hair out of her face, causing her to stir.

She ran a hand over his bare chest. "So warm," she moaned. "Five more minutes."

He grinned and kissed her forehead. "Darling?" he said softly. He glanced at the on the mantle. "It's half past five. What time do you need to be at work?"

She jumped up at that, then squealed as she tried, in vain, to cover herself. "Oh my god, oh my god!" she stared at him with wide, wild eyes as she scooted away from him. "What did we do? Where am I? What did we do?!"

He sat up, careful to keep his lap covered lest she panic even more at his morning erection. "After supper we came here to the Manor, had a few drinks, and passed out," he explained.

She shook her head and pointed an accusing finger. "That's not all we did, is it?" she demanded. "If it were, then where are my clothes? Where are your clothes? Oh God, please tell me we did not have sex last night. I promised Ginny we wouldn't and we have our wedding coming up and I can't believe we slept together knowing we were going to be binding ourselves to one another. Oh God, Ginny's going to kill me! How am I going to explain this to Astoria?"

She was speaking so fast and erratic that, for a moment, Lucius sat there in stunned silence. And she didn't stop. She kept rambling on and on about how the whole thing was her fault and, "I shouldn't have drank that last glass. Oh, Lucius, why didn't you stop me? Did I really swallow your cum?" With tears in her eyes, she touched her lips. "I can still taste it. Oh God!"

Lucius reached out and placed a calming hand on her shoulder. "Hermione, it's going to be ok," he told her.

"But I sucked your dick!" she said and his eyes widened at her choice of words. "What if the binding is now ruined?"

"It's not," he reassured her. "I did not penetrate you."

Her eyes widened. "No, but you…."

"Hermione," he tried, keeping his voice calm. "You read about the binding ritual. What does it say? First penetration, right?"

"But we - then you - and I…" she looked away and he could see the shame beginning to sag her shoulders.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her into his lap. She pushed at his chest, but he held on to her. "Darling, the binding requires first penetration. Which means that you and I would have to have sex," he reasoned.

"You put your dick in my mouth," she pointed out. "You penetrated my mouth."

" _You_ put my dick in your mouth," he corrected. "And that's not the same thing."

She looked at him. "Oh, God, I did, didn't I?" she asked.

He gazed at her curiously and sighed. "You need food."

"I think I had plenty last night," she countered, raising an eyebrow.

He grinned. "I mean something more substantial. We should get dressed and go downstairs."

She blushed and pulled the duvet tighter around her body. "Where are my clothes?" she asked.

Lucius raised an eyebrow. Pointing his wand to his own dressing room, he summoned two house coats and handed one to her. "You can wear this until you are able to get to your rooms. As for the clothes you wore last night, I assume by now the elves have cleaned and pressed them. No doubt they, too, will be in your rooms."

She nodded slowly and peered at him hesitantly. "Once we marry," she tried and he tilted his head curiously. "We'll share a room, right? Only I read that in the old days husbands and wives slept apart from one another."

"Some still do," he admitted. Was she really wanting this to be a more permanent thing? "In fact, Narcissa had insisted on her own room when we first married. However, if you wish to be a bit more intimate, I would not be opposed to such a decision."

Hermione glanced at the bed and Lucius watched her thoughtfully. Indeed, sleeping with one another on a nightly basis was a rather strange concept to him, but he had enjoyed feeling her against him last night. "This room is so large," she commented as her eyes dancing around the room. "I can only imagine how lonely it can get."

He looked at her curiously. Lonely? The room never made him feel lonely that he recalled. However, he wasn't about to tell that to her. If she wanted to believe sleeping alone in his bedroom made him lonely, then who was he to argue? Perhaps this realization of hers would convince her to sleep with him more often.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "After so many years, you get used to it," he replied. "Most of the time I don't even realize it anymore.

"Still. Husbands and wives should share a room. At least, that was how I was brought up. Forgive me, but I just don't understand the idea of having separate rooms. If you're bound to one another, then that is how it should be. Side by side, right?" she said, looking up at him.

Oh how he wanted to throw her on the bed and ravish her at this very moment. "You will receive no quarrel from me, my pet," he whispered as he offered her his hand. "Come. I will walk you to your room."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Another chapter so soon? Y'all are so lucky. ;) Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! Major thanks, as always, to Elle Morgan-Black and cowgalnina! You ladies are the best! And thank you to all my readers and reviewers! You guys keep me going.


	16. Chapter 15

Hermione sat in a Muggle cafe in downtown London to enjoy a nice, non-magical lunch. She loved being in the Magical world, and especially spending time with Lucius. However, the last few days have been a bit... crazy for her.

When Hermione had returned home from her date with Lucius, Ginny had come immediately to her flat and began interrogating her. Hermione loved Ginny as much as she would her own sister, if she had one, but she had to admit the girl could be a bit overbearing at times. When Hermione felt overwhelmed, she found solace in the Muggle world. It just made things easier for her and allowed her to think in peace.

Tucking her legs under her chair, she opened the latest book she had been reading. Pureblood Society fascinated her, even if they were a bit backwards in thinking. She had already decided that she would never force her children into an arranged marriage, for example. She also wasn't too pleased at the idea of Lucius controlling _all_ of the finances. Sure, he was the patriarch, and he had been doing so for years, but still. Was he even teaching Draco?

And that was the other thing. As the wife of the patriarch, Hermione would need to host parties, banquets, and galas, among other things. But the moment Lucius died, that role would belong to Astoria, for Hermione would no longer be married to the patriarch. Of course, as his father's widow, Draco will be practically obligated to continue to allow Hermione to live in the Manor, especially, if she had any children.

Lucius had told her that he had set up an account for her and any children they had at Gringotts. Once they marry, she would be granted access to this account, in addition to funds set aside for their children. Though she was happy that the children would be provided for, she neither wanted nor needed any money from him. That wasn't why she was marrying him. She just… loved him. It was simple as that and all she wanted was to be with him for as long as she could.

Sighing, she took a sip of her coffee and began reading the book. She honestly didn't know how long Lucius was going to live and she hated thinking about his death. But, she was practical and did not live in the fantasy of immortality. While he was alive, she would need to learn how to do the things a proper wife of a patriarch was supposed to do.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of white blond hair pass by her. Thinking it was Lucius, she smiled brightly and watched a woman walk into the cafe. Her smile fell. A Muggle with white blonde hair? Well, it wasn't completely unheard of, but quite rare, particularly that shade. In fact, the only people Hermione had ever seen with that color hair were the Malfoys.

She watched the woman through the glass. She was petite with long, wavy white blonde hair and dark sunglasses. The woman wore a jean jacket and black leggings, though it was late July. That hue of hair color, though… there was no flaw in it.

Curiosity getting the best of her, Hermione tucked her book back into her beaded bag. Setting a few pounds on the table, she grabbed her bag and walked into the coffee shop. Her mind immediately went to Lucius and his long lost sister. She had to fit the description.

Approaching the woman cautiously, Hermione took a deep breath and asked, "Excuse me?"

The woman turned to look at her and took her sunglasses off. Blue eyes, though that didn't mean much of anything. "May I help you?" the woman questioned, raising an eyebrow disdainfully.

"Sorry, only, you look similar to someone I know," Hermione explained apologetically. "Your name wouldn't happen to be Helen, would it?"

The woman frowned and she tilted her chin up haughtily. "No," she answered simply and turned back to the counter where she waited for her meal.

Hermione's eyes widened slightly. The woman had given her the same conceited look both Lucius and Draco often sported when asked questions they disliked. "Oh," she said, bowing her head a little. "Pardon me, then. Only my fiance had a sister by that name and I thought…"

"Apparently you were wrong," the woman snapped. "Carry on, little girl."

Hermione wasn't sure about Helen's age, but this woman looked to be in her forties. She could have easily been Helen. Knowing she wouldn't get anything more from her, Hermione gave her a soft smile. "Right. Sorry again," she said as she turned and walked away.

She went back to her table to see a couple of pigeons picking at her sandwich. Sighing, she sat at the table, effectively shooing the birds away. She didn't even bother touching her drink. She still had some time left. Taking her book back out, she returned to her reading.

"Are you a Pureblood, girl?" came the posh voice of the woman a few minutes later.

Startled, Hermione glanced up. "Pardon?"

The woman waved her hand to indicate the book. "Need I repeat myself?"

Hermione smiled. "No, I am not. I'm Muggleborn," she answered truthfully.

This woman _was_ Helen! Had to be. Her next words confirmed Hermione's suspicions. "As if Lucius would ever sully himself or the family name," she sniffed.

Hermione was careful to keep her smirk to a minimum. "Well, maybe at one time," she agreed. "But a lot has happened. He's changed."

Helen scoffed. "Father must be dead then," she commented, mostly to herself. "He'd never allow Luke to marry a Muggleborn."

Without invitation, Helen sat at the table across from Hermione. They stared at one another until Helen asked, "So, who are you?"

Sitting up straight, Hermione closed her book and offered her hand. "I'm Hermione Granger," she said.

Helen looked at her hand for a moment. Sighing, she shook hands with Hermione. "You look a bit young to be marrying my brother. How old are you?" she questioned.

"I don't know why that would matter," the witch stated, feeling suddenly defensive. "I don't know how much you know of the current state of affairs in the Wizarding world, but…"

"Sweetheart, Wizarding world, Muggle world, they're all the same," Helen drawled. "While an older man marrying a younger woman won't raise too many eyebrows, unless my father has squandered the family fortune, the Malfoys are quite possibly the richest, oldest Pureblood family in Great Britain, which means that Luke marrying a Muggleborn is a big fucking deal."

"Lucius is the patriarch now," Hermione informed her.

Helen pressed her lips together and closed her eyes. "So, Father _is_ dead," she whispered softly. She wiped a tear from her eyes and opened them to look at Hermione. "Do you know when it happened?"

Hermione opened her mouth to answer, then closed it again, thinking. "I don't know, to be honest. Draco told me it was sometime during our second year at Hogwarts, but…"

"Draco?"

Hermione's lips twitched. "Lucius's son. Lucius was married to Narcissa Black right out of Hogwarts," she explained.

"No he wasn't," Helen argued. "Narcissa was still too young. They would've married two years after he graduated."

"Either way, they married," Hermione replied. "And a few years later they had Draco."

"Only Draco?" Helen questioned and Hermione nodded. "You said during your second year at Hogwarts, so you and Draco were schoolmates?"

Hermione nodded again as she watched Helen chuckle. "Why am I not surprised? Luke always had to have the newest, prettiest things. I'll bet there is a smart brain in that head of yours as well." The woman was, undoubtedly, beautiful with full lips and a petite nose. She looked like the painting of her mother, only with Lucius's blond locks. Silently, Hermione was rejoicing. She couldn't believe her luck!

"Do you know how my father died?" Helen asked as she sobered and stared at the witch.

Hermione shook her head sadly. "I didn't ask," she admitted. She looked at Helen hopefully, "But, if you like, we could go to the Manor. I'm sure Lucius could tell you and I know he'd like to…"

Helen stood up and turned away and Hermione could tell she was leaving. "Helen?" the Muggleborn pleaded softly. When the woman stopped, Hermione said, "He really does miss you."

"I know he does," the woman responded. She glanced back at Hermione. "I miss him, too, but I'm not ready to see him yet. I…" Helen bit her bottom lip. "You wouldn't happen to have a mobile?"

Hermione nodded eagerly. "I do."

(II)(II)

Lucius frowned at the parchment. He was off by twenty-five Knuts. Though it didn't really matter in the big picture, it still threw off his account. He sighed as he leaned back and took a sip of his brandy. He would have to do the whole damn thing all over again.

He felt the wards shift and knew Hermione had entered the Manor. Glancing at the clock on the mantle, he pinched his lips and wondered if she had a meeting with Astoria. It would make sense as they often met up, but such meetings usually took place after Hermione ended her shift at work. So, why…?

He could almost feel the pounding of her feet as Hermione ran through the halls. The sounds of her heels clapping on his perfectly polish wooden floors grated on his nerves. Narrowing his eyes, the patriarch stood. He hated when people ran in the Manor.

"Lucius! Lucius!" he heard her voice echoing down the hall towards his office.

Instead of meeting her right away, he went to his bar and refilled his drink. He didn't bother glancing up when she knocked on the door. "Enter," he said calmly.

His head shot up when she threw the door open and rush into the room. "Lucius, I have so much to tell you!" she said excitedly as she hurried across the room and threw her arms around his neck.

He held his glass up and away to keep from spilling his drink. "Hermione," he grunted. He didn't know what had her so excited and it did cause some concern to creep into his mind, dampening the anger he felt. "Tell me, darling, are we under attack?"

She giggled as she released her hold on him. "No," she replied.

He frowned. "Is it Astoria or Draco?" he asked, his voice on edge, though his brow wrinkled.

It was her turn to look confused. "Of course not. Why would you think that?"

Lucius lowered his glass and smoothed the front of his shirt. "Because those are the only reasons I can think of as to why you would be running inside the Manor," he drawled, looking perturbed.

She took a deep breath and Lucius watched her physically calm down for a fraction of a second it seemed. "I'm sorry. I'm just so excited!"

He glanced at the paperwork on his desk and sighed. "Very well," he commented and indicated the chairs by the fireplace. "Let's talk."

Her smile was wide as she led Lucius to the chairs and sat on the edge of one of them. Lucius glanced to the door to see Draco and Astoria standing there, looking curiously. The patriarch raised his glass to them as he moved to sit in his own chair.

"Did you manage to free a bunch of house elves, Granger?" Draco commented as he walked to the bar to pour his own drink.

"No," Hermione admitted, "though I am working on some new legislation that will hold accountable those wizards and witches that abuse their elves. No. Lucius, you will never guess who I ran into during my lunch break today!"

Lucius raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his drink. "I can't imagine anyone would be more important than your work, love," he said.

Hermione grinned. "Not even Helen Malfoy?" she asked, her smile widening, if possible, even more.

Lucius stopped, holding his glass right below his mouth. "What?" he questioned as he stared at her.

She nodded her affirmation. "I was at Raison d'Etre when she walked by me. I asked her if she was Helen, I mean, she looked like what I would imagine with the white blonde hair. You Malfoys are possibly the only people I know with that shade of hair. Well, first she denied it but before I knew it, we were sitting at the table talking! She kept asking about your father and you as well. Kept calling you Luke, too, which I found fascinating. I wasn't aware anyone called you anything but Lucius. She looks so much like your mother, too, though she's got your hair. We exchanged digits as well and she told me that she would ring me when she was ready and I invited her to our wedding. She was so surprised to know you were getting married to a Muggleborn and I think she was sad about your father's passing, though I don't know why since he had abandoned her. I really should have asked her about that…"

"Hermione," Lucius interrupted, effectively putting a stop to her rambling. She had spoken so quickly that he barely understood a word of what she said.

Both Draco and Astoria stared at her. Hermione took another deep breath. "I found Helen," she told him, still smiling.

Lucius lowered his glass and just stared at her. "In London?" he asked.

She nodded. "At Raison d'Etre," she confirmed.

Draco frowned. "I thought she was living in Surrey?" he wondered aloud as he joined his stunned wife on the small couch between Lucius and Hermione.

"People can move," Hermione reasoned. "Especially after so many years."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Naturally, Granger. I wonder why I didn't think of that," he snarked.

"So what did she say?" Astoria asked. "You said you invited her to the wedding. Shall we expect her?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know yet," she admitted. "She wants to see Lucius again but said she wasn't quite ready."

Astoria pinched her lips thoughtfully. "I don't know that a wedding would be the best venue for a reunion anyway," she said. "Do you have a way of contacting her?"

"I do," Hermione told her. "Though she did ask me to allow her to contact me first."

"Do you think she will?" Astoria asked, looking to Lucius.

Lucius frowned at that. The last time he had seen his sister she was but a little girl. "You're certain it was her?" he asked his fiancée dubiously.

"She called you Luke," Hermione told him. "When I saw her, I approached her and mentioned her name. Told her that my fiance had a sister by that name who looked just like her. Then I let her be. Not even five minutes later, she came to me and asked if I was a Pureblood and claimed she couldn't imagine your father allowing a marriage between us to occur…" Lines of doubt drew upon her forehead as Lucius continued to gaze at her in amazement. "I've never heard anyone call you Luke."

"Because they don't," he said, vaguely. "Helen had trouble saying my name as a child so would often resort to calling me Luke, though she knew I didn't care for the name. She was - is - the only one who ever calls me that."

"I think it's sweet," Astoria commented as she smoothed her skirt. "She must've really loved you, Father."

"She is my sister, after all," he croaked as he took another sip of his drink. Taking a deep breath, he stood. "If you will excuse me."

Hermione and the others watched him as he quickly exited the room.

(III)(III)

Lucius's mind was reeling. Hermione found Helen. His soon-to-be wife had found his long-lost sister. For years he had thought her lost forever. Though he had loved her as any brother should, his parents had consistently preached about how a Squib, such as Helen, had no place in his life. His playmate was about as useful as a Muggle.

Memories of them playing together flitted through Lucius's mind as he continued down the passageway, not really paying attention to where he was going.

Closing his eyes, he fought against the heavy weight of his heart as it constricted and pounded in his chest. Resting his hand against the doorframe of a room, he opened his eyes and realized he had gone to the Hall of his Ancestors. He didn't even remember climbing the stairs.

Images of a small little girl prancing around the different pedestals of busts and goading him to catch her echoed in his mind. The jingle of childish laughter reverberated against the stone.

He stumbled into the room, leaning heavily on his cane as he approached the portrait of his father. Red-rimmed eyes glanced up at the foreboding figure and a feeling of hatred welled up inside Lucius. "You lied to me, old man," he accused the portrait.

The portrait said nothing. It couldn't say anything due to the spell Lucius had cast upon it months ago. But that Malfoy, condescending smirk was plastered upon the portrait's face. "You lied!" Lucius snarled, his voice echoing through the room. He punched the wall next to the portrait and could feel himself begin to crumble.

"Lucius?"

Lucius closed his eyes. She will know. Maybe she already knew? He wondered how much

Helen had told her. He wondered how much even Helen had known.

"He told me she was dead," he admitted.

Looking up at those grey eyes that matched his own, he tried to seek answers there. "There had been a fire, years ago. Or so he told me," he said. He felt her hand touch his shoulder.

Reaching up, he grasped the hand and turned to meet his future wife. "That day when you had stumbled upon this room. I came here and demanded to know what had happened to her, to Helen. He… He told me about a fire and how the home he had purchased for her had been burned to the ground. He even provided an address for me, in case I wanted to investigate."

He glanced up hatefully at the portrait. "So, I went. I had to know," he told her. "The house was there, but… according to the newspaper articles there had, indeed, been a fire. Once the house was rebuilt, it was sold, and I thought…"

He looked at her and cupped her jaw. "I didn't want to lose you," he said. "Our relationship was blossoming so well, I feared that if I said anything, you would back off, or turn away. So… I kept it to myself."

"You've been holding onto this secret this entire time?" she asked, her eyes filling with unshed tears.

"I was fifteen when she was sent away," he confessed. "I honestly never thought I would see her again. When this fucking portrait told me she had died in the fire…"

He closed his eyes and knelt down. "She was my sister," he whispered, unable to push past the hurt he felt in his heart.

Hermione wrapped her arms around him, cradling his head against her chest. For a while, they said nothing as she held him and gently stroked his hair. She looked up at the portrait, tears rolling unchecked down her cheeks. Lucius was her intended, her wizard, and his pain was like a knife through her heart. She had never known Lucius to cry, for he was always so strong. Her eyes narrowed at the smug look the portrait wore. God, how she wanted to rip it down.

"Should we go back?" Hermione asked after a while. "I'm sure Draco and Astoria are waiting for us, and we still have much to discuss."

With her help, he stood and straightened his robes. He pulled a handkerchief from his robes and wiped his face. He sniffed. "You're right," he said as he pulled her into his embrace.

She had found her. The woman he was going to marry found the sister he long thought lost. A sister that Lucius hadn't cared to know. After all, she had been out of his life for so long… But now, now that he knew there was a possibility that she could be in his life again? Did he want that? To accept a Squib back into the family? To drive his family's name even further into the mud?

Knowing Hermione, he didn't think he had much choice. And he realized, looking down at their joined hands, that he actually did miss Helen much more than he had originally thought he would.

Lucius didn't know what he had done to deserve Hermione. She was changing him in more ways than one, but he intended on keeping this slip of a woman he held in his arms. He silently thanked whatever gods were watching over him and his family as Hermione led him out of the room.

(IV)(IV)

As they reentered his study, Lucius let go of Hermione and went back to the wetbar to pour himself another glass of brandy. He didn't even know what had happened to his previous glass. Pity.

As he rejoined his family by the fireplace, he glanced at Hermione and asked, "You said you have a way of contacting her, darling?"

Hermione nodded. "Though I promised I wouldn't contact her until she rings me first."

"Rings?" Draco asked.

"On the mobile," Hermione said. Seeing Draco's befuddlement, the witch chuckled. "Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot that you wouldn't know what that is. A mobile is a device Muggles use to communicate. Sort of like the Floo Network, but with a little box that you hold in your hand and is used without a fireplace. When you wish to speak to someone, you dial their number, or if it's programmed into your mobile already, you go to their contact information and hit send. Then her mobile will ring and when she answers, the two of you are connected and can speak as easily and as freely as I'm speaking to you."

"Fascinating," Draco drawled, looking as interested in mobiles as he would a flobberworm.

Astoria, however, looked at Hermione with eagerness. "It does sound fascinating. Will you show us how they work? Do you have one?"

Hermione nodded. "Though I don't know how well it would work here in the Manor. Electronics and magic don't really mix well," she said.

"Do you have it with you?" Lucius asked, raising a brow.

"Oh! Yes, I do!" Hermione said as she opened her purse and dug around inside it. "I have it off right now because, like I said, magic interferes with it and I didn't want it to get ruined," she explained as she pulled out a handheld flip phone.

She handed it to Astoria, who was closest to her. "How do you - Oh!" the young witch exclaimed as she opened the phone. She looked at Hermione apologetically. "I think I broke it."

Hermione chuckled. "No. You have to open it in order to ring someone," she said. "When it's on, the screen here lights up and you can select the contact list, then scroll down to the correct contact. Then you press the send button and it rings them."

"Muggles really are innovative," Astoria observed, intrigued.

"They are," Hermione agreed with a smile. "But then, when you don't have magic, you have to figure out other ways to get by. Mobile phones aren't even the most innovative thing they've created."

"There are cars, aeroplanes, cinemas, and tanks," Lucius commented. "I believe the Muggles even managed to send someone to the moon and back."

It was Hermione's turn to look shocked as she stared at her husband-to-be. "How do you know that?"

Lucius smirked. "I'm about to marry a Muggleborn, Hermione. It only makes sense that I learn a bit about the culture she grew up in, does it not?"

He mentally prepared himself for her launching herself into his lap. Thankfully, she didn't. However, she had tears in her eyes as she stared at him in wonder and awe.

"Father, I think you broke Granger," Draco said when Hermione remained quiet.

"I just…" she breathed, still staring at Lucius. "You really did that?"

"Are you surprised, my love?" Lucius questioned, tilting his head curiously.

Inside he was rejoicing. He knew ordering those books from Flourish & Blotts would pay off. At that moment he realized he had her hook, line, and sinker.

"Honestly?" she replied. "A bit. They are Muggle things and I assume such things wouldn't interest you."

He watched her and could see her struggling with her thoughts. "Because of my past views on blood purity," he finished for her mercifully.

She grimaced. "Maybe? I mean, it is only logical, so surely you understand?" she questioned.

He nodded. "It is logical," he admitted. "What isn't logical is a Pureblood patriarch from, quite possibly, the oldest surviving bloodline in Great Britain marrying a Muggleborn. Yet, here we are."

She looked at him. "Yet, here we are," she echoed. He could see the doubt in her eyes as she continued, "Though I will say that Helen seemed surprised that you were marrying me, especially after I told her I was Muggleborn. She said that she simply could not see you going against your father's wishes."

Draco groaned as he leaned back on the couch. "Now you've done it, Father. She's going to analyze your entire relationship until she comes to some ridiculous conclusion that this whole relationship between you two is some sort of farce or Death Eater trap," he snarked, rolling his eyes.

"That's a mean thing to say," Astoria commented staring at her husband.

He gave her a droll look. "She does it all the time," he pointed out.

"When have I ever done that?" Hermione asked, frowning.

Draco leaned forward. "Tell me you're not thinking about it now," he challenged.

"Draco, you're the one who is being ridiculous," Lucius said, irritated.

"Well?" the younger wizard pressed, staring at the brunette. "Father's been doing all sorts of things for you. He donates to your causes, takes you to all these restaurants, proposes to you, and is even learning about Muggle culture. For you. He even coerced Astoria and me into going to some Muggle sporting event with your parents for no other reason than to impress you. Still questioning it? What about the fact that he's trying to reconnect with his Squib sister? A woman who, up until now, he's hardly thought about, and has never even bothered to mention to his own son. A woman who, for all intents and purposes, my grandfather did everything he could to erase her from my father's thoughts and almost succeeded until you came along."

Hermione straightened up in her chair and tilted her head up. "I don't need to analyze my relationship with your father," she said primly. "Because I already know. Your father and I love one another, and at the end of the day, that is all that matters."

"You already know?" Draco repeated in mock disbelief.

"I've been reading, Draco," the brunette explained. "Did you know that when I was Sorted the Hat almost put me in Ravenclaw?"

"Not surprised."

"No, I didn't expect you would be," Hermione agreed. "Fact is, I know Lucius's marriage to me will be far more advantageous to him than me. Yes, I will gain access to wealth and power. My husband is the patriarch of one of the oldest families in all of Britain, if not _the_ oldest."

"So how exactly does he gain more than you do?" Draco asked, his eyes narrowing.

Hermione didn't look fazed at his intimidating stare, and for that Lucius was glad. However, he, too, was curious as to her reasoning, and so, remained quiet. "It's simple, really," the girl replied. "I'm the brains of the so-called Golden Trio. If not for me, we all know Harry never would have survived during the war. Marriage to me means that there is a possibility that Lucius can regain some prestige within the Ministry, maybe even a seat in the Wizengamot. Production and sales are going to skyrocket within Malfoy Industries the moment we both say, 'I do.' They're already climbing at an alarming speed since we've announced our engagement."

"I'm not marrying you because of any of those things," Lucius argued, feeling the need to say something. He glared at his son.

Hermione looked at him. "I know," she assured him. She sighed. "Trust me. I know. Neither are you marrying me for my looks or blood status. As I said, I've been reading and I walked the halls of this Manor. I've seen the portraits of your ancestors and have met Helen. I could never compete in beauty with any Malfoy."

"Again, I feel as though we will have to agree to disagree, darling," Lucius countered. "You are beautiful. You may not have blonde hair, but that doesn't matter. You're still as beautiful as the autumn."

She smiled at him. "Thank you for that, but you know I could never compete with anyone in your bloodline."

"That's because you're better than them," Astoria piped. "Better than us even."

The older witch looked at the blonde and wrinkled her nose. "No -."

Astoria nodded. "You are. Your bravery, intelligence, and compassion makes you more beautiful than us, Hermione. You're humble, too… when you need to be. And you exhibit the finest traits of any Slytherin. You're clever, cunning, and resourceful. Determined, ambitious. You have every trait a Malfoy seeks in a bride and more. You're better than we are. You helped Harry Potter defeat the Dark Lord simply because you knew we were wrong. Really, the only thing you lack is 'Purebloodedness', and that is neither your fault nor something you can overcome," she said.

"Because of you, two former Death Eaters are learning about Muggles," Lucius added, staring at his future wife. "You've made me smile and laugh more just in the past few months than I have in a long, long time. I wasn't even interested in marriage again until I saw you in that pagoda, with your hair plastered to your face and cheeks bright pink from the chill. I knew in that moment, while reciting Shakespeare with you, that I had to have you. I didn't want to be without you." It wasn't completely true, not by a long shot, but he knew that she would appreciate the memory.

"Is that so?" Hermione wondered. "And here I thought you had just wanted to get into my knickers because you noticed my shirt was see-through and wet."

He was momentarily surprised by how close her comment had hit the mark. He raised an eyebrow and smirked. "I won't deny that much, however, you are worth far more than a quick shag, which is something I realized when we had supper that evening," he admitted.

Draco glared at Hermione. "So, you aren't worried about a Death Eater trap?" he asked skeptically.

Lucius turned to his son and frowned. "Why are you so persistent that there's some sort of trap?" he growled.

Hermione shook her head and answered, "I'm not. At least, not from your father, Draco. Or even from you."

"Why not from me?"

"Because your father and Astoria would never forgive you," the Muggleborn was quick to answer.

The younger witch nodded in agreement. "She's right, Draco."

He rolled his eyes and sat back. "So you aren't worried. Fine. But what's in it for you?" he asked. "And don't tell me that it's because you're marrying 'the love of your life.'"

Lucius watched the witch. He thought it would be interesting to learn her reasoning, and he wasn't disappointed.

"Why does it have to be more than love?" she asked. "Love is the most powerful form of magic, after all. Finding love, and falling in love is the sweetest, most lovely thing in all the world."

"You also have the added benefit of his wealth and the power behind the name Malfoy," Draco pressed.

She shook her head. "Those things don't matter to me," she told him. "I mean, having them is nice, but what does having the name Malfoy really mean these days? If anything, it's connected to blood supremacy and dark magic. Having a Muggleborn suddenly become a part of the family will dramatically change those things. That doesn't help me. That helps you."

Astoria giggled. "Oh, Hermione, you really should have been a Slytherin," she commented.

They looked at the girl with wide eyes. She just shrugged. "Do none of you see it?"

Draco huffed to his wife. "She's a Muggleborn, love. She couldn't be a Slytherin even if she wanted."

"And, trust me, I wouldn't want to be either," Hermione said. "Some of my best years were at Hogwarts in the Gryffindor tower and I wouldn't change it for the world."

Lucius sighed and straightened up in his seat. "Well, now that that's settled, when do you expect my sister to contact you, darling?" he asked, changing the subject. He really hated getting into Hogwarts House debates.

Hermione shrugged. "I mean, I did invite her to the wedding, so I assume it will be sometime between now and then? If she wants to go, that is," she replied. "I'm just happy I found her."

"Yes, what a coincidence," Draco mused as he took a sip of his drink.

Hermione frowned at this and looked from one Malfoy to the other. "None of you had anything to do with this… did you?" she questioned suspiciously.

Lucius shot his son a glare. Draco knew Lucius had been speaking to his father's portrait. He also knew that the portrait divulged nothing. Sure, it had given Lucius an address… to a property that had been sold years ago. Lucius had even gone to a few of Surrey's multiple Muggle libraries to look at lists of citizen names only to come up empty handed. For all he had known, Helen was a ghost, and he had no idea how Hermione had ended up running into her.

"I tried looking for her," Lucius answered, looking at his future wife. "While you were at work, I traveled to Surrey and scoured the towns. I found nothing. The home my father had purchased for her had been sold and there is no record of a Helen Malfoy anywhere. So, unless Draco or Astoria had found something…"

Astoria shook her head, bemused by the idea, while Draco simply raised an eyebrow. "We weren't the ones looking for her, Father. This whole pet project is between you and Granger," he stated.

"So why would you suggest it was a coincidence?" Hermione asked.

Draco tilted his head slightly. "Isn't that what you were thinking?"

"Draco, stop," Lucius growled, sneering at his son.

Hermione held her chin up. "You know, I don't know what's gotten into you lately, Draco, but you're becoming quite belligerent. Ever since we announced our engagement you've done nothing but be ill-mannered and argumentative. You constantly question my motives and those of your father for no reason other than to attempt to stir up discourse between the two of us. And I don't understand it," she said.

"If I may, Hermione, I think I know what it is," Astoria responded. "See, once you and Father marry, there will be no chance of him remarrying Draco's mother."

"There was never a chance of my remarrying her," Lucius said, looking at his son. "Is that what all of this has been about? You do realize that she is engaged to that Spaniard, right?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Only because she can't be with you," he grumbled. "Not that it matters, but that isn't what this is about."

The younger man stood then.

"Draco?" Hermione called, concerned.

He glared at her. "And you! If you think fancy words and dresses are going to make you a part of this family, you're wrong. All the studying in the world will never make you, a Muggleborn swot, one of us. Got it? So, go ahead and study all the books in the world. Let Astoria teach you how to dance and throw balls. When Father dies, you won't be the matron of this family, Astoria will be, so you can hang it all."

With that, he stormed out. Astoria had covered her mouth, appalled and shocked by what he had said. Tears filled her eyes as she looked to Hermione. "I am so, so sorry," she said as she stood and rushed out of the room after her husband.

Lucius had watched as his son departed, anger filling him at the boy's words. He glanced at the brunette witch and saw tears falling, unchecked and silent. Taking a deep breath, Lucius set his glass on the table next to him and stood. Walking around the coffee table, he offered her his hand and pulled her into his arms.

He held her as her body shook with her sobs. Soothingly, he ran his hand over her hair. "It won't be as he said," he told her. "Not for a long time."

She sniffed and looked up at him. "I don't understand, Lucius. Just a few months ago, he was flirting with me and begging me to go out with him. And now he's just become so hateful. I just…"

"It's my fault," came a small voice at the door.

They turned to see Astoria standing there, her head bowed. Hermione shook her head. "No, Astoria, it isn't. You've been nothing but kind -."

"I don't mean to be argumentative, but I must disagree," she interrupted. "As you know, I haven't really been… feeling well, and… I went to St. Mungo's and…"

Lucius looked at the young witch, his eyes widening. Could she be? He dared not smile. Was she about to tell him he was going to be a grandfather?

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Endless thanks to my wonderful betas, Elle Morgan-Black and cowgalnina. You ladies wrock! And thank you to all my lovely reviewers and followers. It means the world to me to read your responses.


	17. Chapter 16

The days passed by in a blur for Hermione. Between work, her studies, and preparing for the wedding, she just couldn't really focus on the days. She hadn't really spoken to Helen since that day at the sandwich shop, though she found herself frequenting the shop more and more.

One Saturday in mid-September, she woke up to a tapping on her window. Seeing the large eagle owl, she hurriedly climbed out of bed and opened the window. The owl flew into her bedroom and dropped a letter onto her bed. It then perched itself on top of a small platform Hermione had bought for when owls visited her.

As the owl drank and ate, Hermione went back to her bed and picked up the letter. She smiled as she saw the elegant handwriting, Lucius's handwriting, on the envelope. She opened it and pulled out the hand-made card. She clutched her chest as her smile widened. "He wishes to take me out for my birthday," she said, giggling in disbelief.

She hugged the card and looked at the bird. "And he says he has a surprise for me. What on Earth do you think that man has done?"

She heard a noise coming from her living room. Dropping the card, she grabbed her wand and slid out of the bed again. Slipping on her house shoes, she walked to the bedroom door and opened it.

Her wand was pointed menacingly in front of her as she crept down the small hallway, her back against the door. Peering around the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks, her wand falling to her side.

Her living room was covered in bouquet after bouquet of daisies of all shapes and sizes. "Oh. My. God," she whispered as she walked slowly into the room.

Almost every surface of the small room had a bouquet atop it. "What has he done?" she asked herself.

Backing up into her bedroom again, she turned to see a prettily decorated red box sitting on her bed. The owl was gone.

Holding her wand aloft in her hand, she walked up to the box. "What did he do?" she asked herself again.

Leaning against her bed, she set her wand down and proceeded to gently lift the lid of the box. Her eyes widened. She gasped as she opened the box the rest of the way and gently pulled the dress out of the box.

She had never seen a more beautiful dress. Well, she had, but certainly…

She ran to her mirror and held the dress up to her body. It was a sapphire blue mermaid-style evening dress. The shoulders and back had a sheer, see-through netting that was decorated with, were those actual sapphires? The floor length skirt pooled at her feet.

She looked up just in time to see another package appear upon her bed. "Lucius Malfoy, I'm going to kill you," she promised, though she didn't mean it, as she returned to the bed and flipped the second box open.

Sapphire jewel encrusted stilettos sat perfectly positioned amidst tissue. She sat on the bed in wonder as she held the gown and stared at the shoes. She gazed unseeing at the window as she asked aloud, "Anything else you want to send me, you tosser?"

She sighed as she heard the doorbell. Getting up, she gently laid the dress on the bed. "Coming!" she called as she grabbed a house robe and threw it on.

As she opened the door, she saw Ginny throw her hands up. "There's the birthday girl!" the ginger exclaimed as she snatched Hermione up in a hug.

Hermione returned the hug with a laugh. "You could have used the Floo," she commented as she grinned at Harry. "Hey, Harry."

"Hey, Hermione. All right?"

Hermione's smile broadened. "Never better," she replied automatically, then her mouth dropped open and she looked at Ginny. "Gin! You'll never guess what this wanker did!"

She opened the door more and pulled her friend into her flat. Ginny froze when she saw the living room. "Sweet Merlin!" she breathed.

Harry followed the girls into the flat and raised his eyebrows. "Think you have enough flowers, Hermione?" he asked.

She hugged him and shut the door behind them. "That's not all," she told them. "He owled me this morning. He wants to take me out tonight for my birthday. And, get this, he even bought me a dress and some shoes."

"Well, that shouldn't come as a surprise," Ginny stated as she touched one of the bouquets. "Did he tell you where he was taking you?"

Hermione shook her head. "I imagine it's somewhere special though," she guessed.

"Of course it's somewhere special," Harry commented as he walked to the little dining area.

"Most of the time we dine at the Manor, so it will be a nice change," Hermione said as she went into the kitchen, turned on the kettle, and grabbed some cups.

"Speaking of the Manor, how are your studies coming along?" Ginny asked as she sat in one of the chairs at the table.

Hermione shrugged. "Well enough, I suppose. I spend more time reading than anything else, which is fine by me," she explained. "Pureblood Society is fascinating and I'm learning a lot from Astoria."

"Has Malfoy asked you to give up your day job yet?" Harry asked as he plucked a chocolate from the dish in the middle of the table.

"No," Hermione responded. "And he wouldn't anyway. Though I do wonder if it might not be for the best. Draco keeps going on and on as if Lucius is going to die any day, but Astoria keeps grooming me for my role as matriarch once I marry. Most wizards live well into their second century, and Lucius is both healthy and spry enough that I don't see him dying any time soon."

"You realize that once you marry, you will have to actually shag an old man, right?" Harry pointed out.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He's not old," she said as she brought the kettle, the cups, and a small canister of sugar to the table.

"He's in his fifties, Hermione," Harry argued. "He's old enough to be your father."

"My father is a Muggle," Hermione stated as she sat down. Without even asking, she began pouring them tea. "Muggles age differently than wizards do. Lucius still has at least a century left, give or take. So he's not old. He's barely approaching middle age."

"And he's still hot," Ginny commented as she put some sugar into her cup. "Probably quite the dominant in bed, too."

"I haven't slept with him yet, Gin," Hermione chided.

"No, but you will," the ginger predicted. "And you'll have to let me know, too."

"I do not want to be hearing about this," Harry said as he drank some of his tea.

Hermione sat up. "You don't have to hear it, Harry, because I won't be saying a word."

"Oi! No fair!" Ginny protested.

"It is improper for a lady to discuss what goes on inside the bedroom," Hermione explained.

"So you're a lady now?" Harry asked, staring at his friend incredulously.

"What do you mean 'now'?" Hermione demanded. "I've always been a lady."

Harry leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Sure, Hermione. You've always been a girl, a woman. But you have rarely acted like a posh lady. You're more… What's the term? 'A mate' with feminine airs, or something."

Hermione's frown deepened. "In a few short months I will become Mrs. Lucius Malfoy," she told him. "I will be the matriarch of the Malfoy family."

"At least until Lucius dies," he retorted.

Hermione slammed her cup down, disrupting the table. "Why does everyone keep saying that?" she spat. "You all act as though he's going to just drop dead the day after the wedding or some such tripe! The man is 56 years old! He's got at least another century before he even gets close to dying."

"Didn't he already put you in his will, though?" Harry asked.

"No, not really," she told him. "He wrote it out, but it won't be signed until we are married. It's standard procedure to ensure that in the event of his untimely death our children will be provided for. It's what any man of wealth would do. Especially if they have children from a previous marriage who are already set to inherit everything."

Harry took a sip of his tea. "I'm sure Malfoy Junior is just loving this, huh? Not even 30 years old and he already has to share the wealth with his nonexistent half siblings."

"Stop it, Harry," Ginny warned, glaring at her husband.

"What?"

"You're being petty," the ginger accused. "Hermione and Lucius have been courting for months now and they will get married soon. You may not like him, but he will be Hermione's husband. You need to accept that and move on. He's not going anywhere. Better yet, they will be bound to one another. Which means that he's really not going anywhere. You don't have to like him, but after having them court for so long, one would think you'd gotten used to it by now."

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "I'm trying, Gin, really I am," he told her. He looked at Hermione. "I just don't understand it."

"What's there to understand?" Hermione asked with a shrug. "I love him, he loves me. We're going to get married. There isn't anything complicated about it."

"And Draco's ok with it?" Harry questioned.

"Does it really matter?" Hermione countered. "I'm not marrying Draco. Besides, he has his own problems to deal with."

Ginny frowned. "What do you mean?" she asked.

Hermione sighed. "Something's wrong with Astoria," she said and raised her hand, "and before you ask, I don't know what it is. She won't tell Lucius and me."

"Do you think she's pregnant?"

Hermione shook her head. "We do know that much," she admitted. "Well, we think we know that much. It may have changed, but as far as we know, she isn't pregnant. I don't know what's wrong, but whatever it is, it has Draco on the edge. He's become a bigger wanker than he usually is."

"That's not a very lady-like thing to say," Harry pointed out.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He's not much of a gentleman right now, so…" she shrugged.

(II)(II)

The gown was even more beautiful when Hermione slipped it on later that afternoon. It made her feel so sexy and beautiful the way it hugged her curves and slid down her thighs.

She looked up at the clock as Ginny helped her put on her makeup. She had done her hair up, though she bypassed any beads. They looked too fake compared to the gems that decorated her gown. Instead, she took out a sapphire comb that her mother had given her for her sixteenth birthday and allowed Ginny to slip it into an elaborate bun atop her head.

"According to the letter, Lucius is going to come here in a carriage at six o'clock to pick me up," Hermione stated as Ginny painted her lips.

Her friend smiled. "Then it's a good thing that we are done. I still have to go home and get ready myself."

Hermione frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Lucius didn't tell you?" the younger witch said in mock surprise. She smirked. "I suppose that means you will just have to wait and see."

"Ginny," Hermione complained. "You know I don't like surprises."

Ginny giggled. "And yet you're marrying a man who likes to give you surprises. Oh, just enjoy it, Hermione," she said wistfully. "You are quite literally the luckiest woman on this planet and you don't even know it! Let him dote on you. Merlin knows he has the Galleons."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You know I don't care about money, Gin."

"And yet he still wants to spend it on you," the ginger said. "So, let him. Now, I have to go home and change. Mind if I use your Floo?"

Hermione waved a hand as the doorbell rang. They stared at one another. Ginny grinned. "Lover boy's here," she sang.

Hermione playfully slapped her friend on the shoulder. "Don't call him that!" she chastised with a laugh.

She answered the door to see Lucius standing there, a bouquet of gerbera daisies in one hand and his walking stick in the other. "Happy birthday, darling," he said.

(III)(III)

Lucius placed a hand gently on her lower back as he guided her through yet another posh Wizarding restaurant. He maintained a stoic expression as they stepped into a parlor that had been decorated for the occasion.

"Oh my God!" Hermione breathed as she glanced around the room.

Lucius didn't really know who all of her friends had been in school, but he had a rough idea and managed to secretly send invitations to as many of them as he could. Their replies had confirmed much of his suspicions. While she hadn't been the most popular person, she did have a healthy dosage of friends.

"Hey, Granger," greeted a ginger haired boy Lucius surmised had been one of the Weasleys. "Happy birthday."

"Charlie!" she replied, grinning and throwing her arms around him in a hug. "However did you manage to get away from Romania?"

The boy chuckled. "Well, when I heard that the infamous Lucius Malfoy was throwing my gorgeous friend a birthday party, I couldn't very well decline the invite, now could I? Merlin's beard, Hermione! You sure know how to pick them."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but chuckled all the same.

The room had been decorated in whites and golds, with daisies and roses as the flowers of choice. The restaurant had spared no expense with the decorations, but then, that was how Lucius had instructed them. He wanted everything to be perfect for her.

That being said, he could feel his body harden in annoyance as yet another man greeted Hermione and hugged her. He didn't like the intimacy of all these greetings. They were too close. Too…

He stepped up beside her and placed his hand onto the small of her back. She giggled as she touched his chest. "You all remember Lucius Malfoy, right?" she asked rhetorically.

"How could anyone forget?" questioned a dark skinned man who sported dreadlocks and a mischievous glint in his eye that Lucius did not like.

"Blimey, Hermione! So it's true?" asked an Irish wizard with cropped hair. "Yer actually gonna marry this geezer?"

Hermione glanced up at Lucius who looked back down at her. "You know, Seamus," she responded with a thoughtful look, "I do think I will." She shot the man a warning frown. "And it's impolite to insult the host, Seamus. Where's Romilda?"

Lucius gave her a small smile and nodded at the Irishman. Seamus… Seamus… "Thank you for attending this evening's festivities, Mr. Flanagan. I know my beloved is very pleased to have you here."

Hermione giggled. "Finnigan, my dear," she corrected as she kissed his cheek. She whispered in his ear, "Be nice."

He raised an eyebrow and gave Finnigan a short bow. "My apologies, Mr. Foley," he said.

Hermione rolled her eyes and leaned into him. "Finnigan," she whispered, smiling prettily.

He looked at her in confusion. "Is that not what I said?"

"No, that's not… ugh, nevermind," she hissed. She glanced back at Finnigan. "Sorry, Seamus."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Didn't expect much more from a Malfoy," he reasoned. "Especially not Death Eater Malfoy."

"That isn't a title," Lucius pointed out with a frown. "And 'former' Death Eater. Not only did I defect, the Death Eaters are no longer a movement."

"Only because you're leaderless," the black skinned man commented.

"Lee!" Hermione said, looking at the man in surprise. "Look. I know there is a lot of bad blood here, but can we please enjoy ourselves? We don't need to rehash things that have happened in the past."

"I dunno, Granger," Lee said. "Lotta people lost their lives thanks to his lot. I don't know what you see in him."

Hermione frowned. "If you came here to just have a go at my fiancé, Jordan, then you shouldn't have come. Lucius is my fiancé, and he went to a lot of trouble to plan a celebration for my birthday and include all of my friends." She folded her arms as she continued, "Which, by the way, he didn't have to do. I didn't ask him for this, and certainly wasn't expecting it. You could show a bit more gratitude."

"He was still a Death Eater," Seamus pressed. "Think about it, Hermione."

" _Was_ , Finnigan," Draco interrupted as he approached the group. "That's the word you keep forgetting. He _was_ a Death Eater. ' _Was'_ means, not anymore."

Lucius could see that the debate was beginning to get heated. Normally, he would have had no problem arguing with Hermione's pathetic little friends. However, aside from the fact that this was supposed to be an evening of celebration, any sort of confrontations could put a damper on his wedding plans. Besides, this was neither the time, nor the place.

"That's enough, Draco," Lucius said as he stood up straight. "We are here today to celebrate Hermione's birthday. That is why I have gathered all of her friends and family. We are not here to speak about the past nor of our relationship. There is food and soon there will be dancing. It is your decision how you wish to partake in this evening, but I will not have anymore of this nonsense." He looked to his future wife. "Come, darling. I do believe there are other guests who would like to see you. Enjoy the festivities, gentlemen."

Lucius steered his young bride away from the men and guided her towards another group who seemed anxious to greet her. Soon, she was effectively distracted with more people giving her warm wishes and happy returns.

He glanced around, silently noting the people who had arrived and those still entering the room. Seeing Harry Potter and his wife leading the two Muggles into the room, Lucius grinned. Perfect. This was exactly what he had been hoping for.

"Hermione, darling, I hope you don't mind," he said, drawing her attention as she exchanged hugs with a girl Lucius knew of as Cho Chang. "I took the liberty of inviting your parents to join us this evening. While I don't know all of the customs Muggles have, I figured this was one they would want to be a part of."

Hermione looked at him in shock. "My parents?" she asked as she started searching the crowd with her eyes. "How did you get the approval from the Minister?"

Her eyes settled on her parents and she let out a squeal of delight as she raced across the room to them.

"All these months of educating her about decorum and appropriateness seems to have flown away with the snitch," Draco drawled as he moved to stand beside his father.

Lucius shrugged. "This is her birthday," he reasoned. "We can allow these little slips for this night."

Draco glanced up at his father. "You're not serious? You would've boxed my ears if I had taken off across a room like that," he pointed out. "She didn't even bother to politely excuse herself."

"Naturally," the older wizard agreed. "But you are my progeny, she is not. You've also had twenty six years of training and education of how to act as a proper Pureblood in society. She has only had a few months."

"Do you really think she is ready?" he asked, watching as the girl in question was lifted up in a hug by the Man-Who-Defeated-The-Dark-Lord.

"It matters not," Lucius replied after a moment. "She'll be ready to marry, for certain, and what she doesn't know about our society and our family, she will learn quickly enough. From what I know, she has been going through those books in her room like a niffler in a Gringotts vault."

"Helen never RSVPed," Draco said.

Lucius looked at his son, surprised at the sudden change of subject. "Did you expect her to? Come now, Draco, you know Malfoys better than that," he chided. "Hermione just met her not long ago and she has yet to come to the Manor. I wouldn't expect her to come to a Muggleborn's birthday celebration, even if said Muggleborn will be married to her older brother."

"The mere fact that Granger will soon be family is all the more reason for her to be here," Draco argued.

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Hermione told me that Helen had been married. I never knew that and I hadn't been invited to the wedding. I also never kept in touch with her. I didn't even try. So, you can hardly blame her for her current actions," he said.

Draco gave his father a funny look. "She's still a member of this family, right?"

The older wizard frowned as he watched his future bride laugh. "Actually," he replied, taking a deep breath, "I don't know. She's blood, certainly, but I do believe my father had struck her from the family tree. Given that you were born and I'm about to marry a woman who will want children, I am under no obligation to reinstate her as the family line will continue with or without her. Besides, I do believe my father had already given her her inheritance: Proper schooling at the best Muggle schools, housing, and enough money in her bank account to last her a few lifetimes."

Draco scoffed. "You know Granger won't allow you to do that, right?" he asked. He placed a hand on his chest dramatically and mimicked Hermione, "Now, Lucius, you know as well as I that what your father did was wrong. You simply have to accept her. She's your sister."

Lucius raised an eyebrow, unamused. "Do not let Hermione catch you doing that," he warned.

Draco chuckled. "Yes, well, she's over there, so I'm not worried," he said. "I was spot on though."

With a roll of his eyes, Lucius sighed. "I will be surprised if she doesn't hex you by the end of this evening."

"I'm surprised she hasn't hexed _you_ yet," Draco bit back. "Has she not seen the gifts you bought her?"

Lucius shrugged. "She will when she returns home, I'm sure," he replied, a smirk playing on his lips.

(IV)(IV)

The evening had been something beyond Hermione's greatest dreams. Between the dancing, dinner, and, yes, cake, the whole party had been more than she could have ever imagined. Having her parents there had made it even more memorable, and she wondered how Lucius had managed it.

Of course asking him had been almost impossible because as soon as the last few guests had bid their adieus, Draco and Astoria had insisted that Hermione needed to go home and get sleep. She was surprised they even allowed Lucius to walk her to her front door and give her a good night kiss.

As Hermione laid across her bed, exhausted, she stared blindly at the ceiling. Memories of dancing with Lucius, eating cake, having dinner with her parents in a Wizarding restaurant… She stretched her arm out and felt rose petals on her fingertips. Sitting up, she glanced at the petals and smiled absently. He must have left them there while she was away.

In the past, Hermione hated little surprises like this, they were things she didn't expect and didn't know how to react to them. Looking at the petals now, though, she felt her heart warm at the sight of them. He had gone through so much trouble to make this day special. For her. No one had ever done anything like that before.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** As always, many thanks to cowgalnina and Elle Morgan-Black. You ladies rock! And many thanks to all my readers. I really hope you enjoyed this chapter.


End file.
